UC-NRLF 


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SOCIAL  KOTI'/ATIOK  OF  -^IKGLISH  LIT^RATURS  TEd.CEIlJG. 


By 

SOPHIA  McSNTYHE 
ft 

A. 3.  1915. 

THESIS 
Submitted  in  partial  satisfaction  of  the  requirements  for  the  degree  of 

MASTER  OF  ARTS 
in 

EDUOATION 

in  the 

GRADUATE  DIVISION 

of  the 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 


Approved. 


Instructor  in  Charge 


Deposited  in  the  University  Library. 


Date 


Librarian 


■-^ 


ce'«.fl       « 


LBfc 


■DHC,  Berr 


1. 


CONTENTS 


•  •  • 


Z. 

PREFACE  ii-iii. 

II. 

SURVEY  OF  THIRTY- TWO  HIGH  SCHOOL  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 

CLASSES 1-25. 

III. 
DEFINITION  AND  APPLICATION  OF  TERMS  IN  THE  TITLE 

"SOCIAI.  MOTIVATION" 26-45. 

IV. 
ENGLISH  LITERATURE  AS  CALl^'.H   UPON  ESPECIALLY  TO 

CONTRIBUTE  TO  SOCIAL  MOTIVATION  46-60. 

V. 
SOME  SUGGESTED  WAYS  OF  USING  ENGLISH  LITERATl'RE  .61-72. 

VI. 

CONCLUSION  73-76. 

VII. 
BIBLIOGRAPHY  73-88. 


•  «  • 


64403S 


,1 


ii. 


PREFACE 


**» 


There  Is  no  attempt  in  this  paper  to  cover  any  full 

or 
portion  of  the  ground  outlying, adjacent  to  the  subject 

indicated.   To  be  expansively  comprehensive  would  require 
much  more  space  than  is  here  contemplated,  A  large  amount 
of  material  giving  more  general  analyses  of  the  curriculum 
problems,  and  details  of  method,  relative  to  treating" the 
humanities"  was  encountered  in  trying  to  find  oufwhat  the 
books  say  "about  handling  high-school  problems, and  the  life- 
problems  contingent  thereto.   Discussion  about  the  general 
and  related  educational  problems  connected  with  such  a  thing 
as  "social  motivation"  has  no  implicit  bounds. 

The  relatively  large  number  of  books  which  are  included 
in  the  bibliography  below  were  not  least  valuable  in  strength- 
ening the  conviction  that  the  need  for  sooialiaation  of 
school  studies  looms  large.   Such  suggestion  cams  by  impli- 
cation rather  than  by  specific  reference  from  the  reading. 
Few,  if  any,  writers,  indicated  ways  or  means  for  articulating 
the  social  idea  in  English  literature  or  swiy  other  courses 
of  study. 


iii. 


Direction  is  8uggest«d  rather  than  any  new  plan  for 
teaching  being  laid  out.    The  method  in  the  study  has 
been  as  closely  as  possible  inductive. 


SOCIAL  MOTIVATION  OF  ENGLISH  LITERATURE  TEACHING 


*** 


In  going  about  school-rooms  where  Erglir-h.  liftrra't.urB 
is  being  taught,  and  in  grumbling  about  the  English  teacher 
and  his  methods,  afterward,  the  visitor  lays  himself  open 
only  to  blame,  perhaps.   Teaching  English,  in  whatever  way, 
is  hard  business.  And  teachers  are  doing  it,  perhaps,  as 
best  it  can  be  done,  given  conditions.   There  is  invitation 
as  well  as  reproof  however,  in  calling  these  teachers  '' angels, 
before  our  faces,  who  prepare  a  way  before  us.'' 

How  is  English  literature  being  used  as  an  "educational 
means"  in  our  secondary  school  classes  in  California? 

There  were  observed  for  the  purpose  of  this  study, 
thirty-two  English  literature  classes  in  the  public  schools 


Alexis  F.  Lange:  "Literature  as  Educational  Means." 
Address  before  the  Southern  Section,  California  Teachers' 
Association,  Los  Angeles,  December  1S14. 


ci    &■ 


of  Oakland,  and  of  Yreka,  California,  in  the  year  1919-20. 
Sixteen  olaases  were  visited  in  each  place.   Effort  was 
made  to  get  a  more  or  less  indiscriminate  inventory  of  the 
work  done  in  each  class,  eliminating  from  the  original  ob- 
servations any  preconceived  notions  as  to  how  it  should  be 
done.   There  was  no  particular  prejudice  in  the  beginning. 
The  schools  visited  are  listed  among  the  best  in  the  state, 
graded  in  the  University  of  California  Examiner's  report 
as  A  I.   The  teaching  in  these  schools  is  therefore  fairly 
representative  of  the  beat  English  literature  teaching  we 
have  in  the  state. 

Point  of  attack,  if  not  bias,  was  needed  in  order  to 

make  specific  observations, and  to  group  them.  Professor 

a 
Chubb 'a  description  of  and  norm  for  literature  as/iform  of 

art  was  taken  to  serve  for  literature  as  an  educational  means, 

"Literature  must,  as  its  master-aim,  evoke  and  discipline  the 

great  emotions.   It  must  present  clatified  and  transfigured, 

as  well  as  actual,  manifestations  of  life]  it  must  give  us 

1 
ideals  of  humanity,  of  human  society," 


1 
Percival  Chubb:  N.E. A, Proceedings,  1903. 


The  following  score -oard  was  used: 

Front  of  card. 


Class:  Percent  of 

Teacher:  thinking  in  class; 

Piece  of  work: 


^  enjoying  - 
Teacher  does:  ^  bored- 

Pupils  do   :  $   indifferent. 


^  of  character  analysis;  study  of  motives; 
purposes: 


Reverse  of  card 


/^  of  vicarious  experiences: 

io   of  reflection  on  the  experiences: 

^  of  time  spent  on  incidentals: 
$  of  time  spent  on  interpretation: 


Special  projects  on  hand- 


^  of  purpose  in  teacher's 
work: 


It  was  ascertained,  too,  whether  or  not  specific  attention 
were  given  ethics  by  correlated  work  in  the  schools,  by  means 
of  English  or  other  studies:  if  there  were  arrangement  for 
specially  designated  classes  in  biography,  "the  control  of 
conduct,"  etc.;  or  if  certain  recommendations  were  made  fa>om 
either  English  or  History  department  heads,  or  both,  to  insure 
occasional  ethical,  or  social,  interpretation  of  literature, 

A  particular  limitation  involved  in  this  survey  was 
visiting  most  classes  and  teachers  in  Oakland  but  once  — 
giving  possibility  of  having  struck^a  day  off."   This  handi- 
cap was  offset,  perhaps,  by  some  talk  with  individual  teachers, 
which  gave  them  opportunity  for  expressing  somehow,  better 
intentions  than  their  class  work  manifested.    The  observation 
of  the  Yreka  classes  had  the  advantage  of  repeated  inspection, 
as  well  as  collaborated  observations  of  other  visitors. 
There  persists  the  margin  of  error  inherent  in  any  educational 
survey  of  live  codgers. 

The  rating  of  the  thirty-two  classes  is  roughly 
summarized  on  the  following  page. 


AVERAGE  FOR  THE  THIRTY-TWO  CLASSES 

Percent  of  thinking 63 

"    "   enjoying 34 

"    "  indifferenoe 34 

"    "  teaching:  euggeetive  and  directive  .  38 

mandatory 62 

"    "  pupils  responding: (self  activity.  .  .  64 
in  terms  of     (following  the 

(teacher 36 


Percent  of  character  analysis,  study  of 

purposes,  motives  58 

Percent  of  vicarious  experience  65 

"   "   time  on  incidentals 33 

"   "    "   "   interpretation 53 


be 
This  table  can,  of  course,  only  widely  approxicate, 
A 

and  intends  to  indicate  the  general  tendencies,  rather 
than  to  present,  in  any  way,  quoted  "statistics." 

It  will  be  noted  that  in  classes  where  self-activity 
did  not  operate  in  some  degree,  following  the  teacher 
"as-leader"  was  less  common  than  conducting  side-track 
activity  —  minds  being  with  hearts  -  elsewhere. 


6 


It  will  be  noted  then,  that  of  the  thirty-two  classes: 

6  supplied  noticeably,  vioarioua  experience, 
something  which  seemed  to  extend  actively  the 
pupils'  participation  in  life. 

7  supplied  exercise  in  character  analysis  in  some 
kind  of  reflective  study  of  motives,  purposes. 
This  last  item  would  indicate  with  some  accuracy 
the  degree  of  self-conscious  method  evolved  in 
relation  to  meeting  and  reflecting  on  personal 
problems.   The  percent  of  original  thinking  of 
some  kind  in  the  classes  as  a  unit  might  r\in  about 

40. per cent. 

There  is  in  this  last  item,  however,  more  room  for  error 

due  to  faulty  observation.  The  bored  expressions  are  often 

only  tkin-deep  and  vice-<Versa.   And  present  day  high-school 

sophisticated  speecb  ,is  not  easily  plumbed. 

1 
Professor  Chubb's  description  of  the  particular  function 

of  English  literature  appreciation  is  not  seen  at  work  then, 

to  any  marked  extent,  in  the  thirty- two  representative  classes. 

Literature  is  not  prominently  "evoking  or  disciplining  the 

great  emotions"  in  classes  where  the  average  percent  of 

thinking  is  sixty-two,  of  self-activity  -  sixty-four,  however 

wide  the  margin  of  error  in  these  percent  calculations.  And 

if  vicarious  experience  be  any  where  near  sixty-five  percent, 

it  could  hardly  be  claimed  that  "manifestations  of  life. 


actual  or  transfigured,"  featured  very  conapici^uoly. 

The  item  which  seems  moot  largely  neglected  by  the 
current  procedure  is  the  interest  and  ability  of  the  boys 
and  girla  for  adventuring.   Sufficiently  exercised,  ouch 
activity,  whether  in  much  company  or  in  little,  might 
yield  material  for  reflection;  and  might  aid,  consequently, 
in  developing  moral  self-conscioifeness.   Having  sufficient 
identification  with  the  characters  and  events  of  stirring 
literature,  direction  to  thinking  about  the  motives,  pur- 
poses, causes,  underpinning  and  overlying  such  experiences, 
might  be  more  easily,  and  so  more  readily,  given.   The 
pupils'  own  ideas  would  have  some  play.   Initiative  in 
acting  and  thinking  could  thus  be  fostered.  Original  re- 
actions to  situations  in  life  might  be  educated.   The  end 
of  life  as  living  together  might  become  more  popular  and 
profitable. 

The  representative  teachers  in  the  survey  were  not 
concerned  particularly  with  such  matters.   At  beat  they 
battled  with  more  explicit  concerns.   They  stressed  philo- 
logical, grammatical  analysis  --  and  were  very  precise;  or 
they  glowed  over  literary  types,  and  were  style-collectors;  a 
few  seemed  to  be  aiming  at  some  kind  of  vague  "emotional 
appreciation."    Tliese  filled  most  of  the  class  periods 
talking,  themselves;  some  of  them  read  "literature"  aloud, 


.'•!■ 


.;P 


,  .hsT:;-,,  r'ljirr.si'f^f    ti 


8 


usually  without  any  contagion  in  voice  or  manner.   Some  of 
them,  more  versatile  and  younger,  attempted  combinations  of 
these  three  methods.    In  such  classes  motion  at  least,  and 
a  breezy  air  dispelled  tSdiun. 

There  was  the  teacher  who  spent  forty-five  from  a 
fifty-five  minute  class-period,  introducing  a  third  year 
high-school  class  to  George  Herbert  Palmer's  "Glory  of  the 
Imperfect,"  by  syncopated  pecks  at  the  choice  words  in  the 
eBsay.   No  response  coming  from  the  claso  at  first,  she  both 
asked  and  answered  her  questions  for  word  definitions.   The 
pupils,  catching  the  level  of  interest,  were  able  by  the  mid- 
dle of  the  period,  to  rise  and  define  words,  without  materially 
intemjpting  their  dreams  and  pastimes.   The  class  had  seemed, 
during  the  opening  moments  when  the  new  essay  was  announced, 
to  be  alive  for  something  that  "Sounded  good,  anyway."  There 
y^&B   a  sincere  and  reserved  air  of  no  little  expectancy.   The 
zest  subsided  quickly,  almost  obediently,  as  the  word-work 
began. 

The  teacher  who,  after  reading  Whittier's  "The  Lost 

Occasion"  to  the  class,  proceeded  immediately  to  describe 

in  detail  the  landmarks  of  Massachusetts,  coming  then  to  a 

descriptive  comparison  of  Whittier's  early  environment  with 

that  of  his  littrary  associates,  was  leading  in  perhaps  the 

to 
most  efficacious  way ,^  collateral  work.   She  may,  too,  have  been 


iao. 


!«    itpift;; 


miRiatering  to  the  historic  sense  of  her  pupils.  But  the 
method  was  almost  too  out-and-dried  for  that,  as  the  teacher 
did  most  of  the  talking,  and  supplied  all  of  the  tntdrcBt  and 
enthusiasm.   The  treatment  was  ostensibly  literary  and 
statistical. 

Another  teacher,  reading  "The  Merchant  of  Venicef 
oonsecutively,  in  monotone,  was  expecting  to  elioit  thareby^ 
suff ioient"appreciation"  from  a  large  and  troublesome  second 
year  class.   No  more  obvious  aim  could  be  diaoemed,  at 
least.   And  the  nature  of  questions  as  to  "How  Portia  felt/' in 
the  casket  scenes,  and  "What  the  Song  said,"  indicated  that 
emotional  appreciation  or  quizzing  to  find  out  if  the  lesson 
were  attended,  were  the  aims.  The  only  evidences  of  emotion- 
al appreciation  on  the  part  of  the  pupils  in  this  class*  were 
the  antics  performed  in  noisily  changing  seats,  and  glee 
at  one  another's  blunt,  tho  correct, answers  to  the  obvious 
questions. 

The  more  prevailing  type  of  class  observed  was,  as  above 
stated,  that  in  which  all  three  of  the  current  aims  — 
philological,  stylistic,  "appreciative,"  were  somehow  attempted. 
The  class  in  Lanier  is  a  good,  inclusive  example  of  th|g 
kind  of  teaching  at  its  beet.  The  scoring  of  that  class  is 
as  follows: 


Front  of  Card 


10 


Clafls:  1st  half,  3rd  Year  (Junior)    Percent  of 

42  members.  thinking  in 

Teaoher:  30  odd  years,  enthusiastic,  class:   80 
bustling,  sense  of  humor. 

^  Enjoying-  90 
io  Bored-  0 
io   Indifferent  ID 

Teacher  does:  Listens  to  recitations,  asks  quest iori^ 
to  elicit  thinking  about  authors,  their 
poems,  lives,  motives,  etc,         K 

Pupils  do:  Recite  poems;  compare  his  style  with 

others;  analyze  somewhat  and  compare 
characters  of  the  authors*  studied. 

io   of  character  analysis;  study  of  motives, 
purposes:  (of  abthors)  40. 


Reverse  of  Card. 


i>  of  vicarious  experiences:      30. 

'fo  reflection  on  the  e:g3erience8:   10. 

io  of  time  spent  on  incidentals  —  0 

(of  poems-)15. 

io  "        ••  n  "     interpretation: 

(of  poets)50,  . 


\ 


It  is  noteworthy  here  that  the  more  social .humanistic  aim  is 


.1  .^J   1....X    J  _   ± 


11 


Such  kind  of  class,  with  varied  aims,  is  represented  at 
its  worst  by  the  Second  year  class  studying  "Julius  Caesar." 
The  visitor's  score-card  was  of  little  avail,  with  things 
coining  so  fast  and  diversely.   In  that  class  the  atmosphere 
waB  taut  as  the  teacher  by  sheer  domination  of  will  carried 
the  class  up  and  held  them  to  delivering  as  economically  as 
possible  as  many  emotional  responses,  reflections,  comments, 
specific  facts  as  possible,  in  connection  with  the  various 
persons  and  events  in  the  scene  followaJ%  the  killing  of 
Caesar.   The  intention  to  make  some  room  for  "everything" 
was  very  grave  on  the  part  of  both  pupils  and  teacheri   The 
discussion  was  undoubtedly  ponderous,  overwhelming,  in- 
determinate.  There  was  a  race  for  one  hundred  percent  of 
all  and  any  values  likely  coincident  in  a  class  studying 
literature. 

The  classes  coming  under  this  curvey  present  outstanding 
and  deep  rooted  deficiencies.   And  considering  the  high 
standard  of  these  classes,  according  to  the  state's  accrediting* 
these  shortcomings  may  be  considered  representative  of  the 
better  faults  in  the  English  work  being  done  in  the  high 
schools  in  California  now. 


a*   \.I 


''^;^(^b 


IS 


1,   There  is  a  large  amount  of  single-minded  teaching, 
baaed  on  one  or  another  of  the  requirements  for  traditional 
scholarship  in  "letters,"   The  philological,  style-collecting, 
and  "emotionally  appreciative "teachers  supply  this  category. 
These  are  persistant  and  plentiful  because  such  "on*  dimentional" 
"teaching"  is  easiest  and  "surest,"    3.   There  is  the  teaching 
which  aims  more  inclusively,  but  which,  seeing  so  many  alluring 
possibilities,  appears  to  exercise  little  judgment  in  regard 
to  relative  values.    Confusion, heaviness,  and  some  frenzy^ 
are  the  chief  occupants  in  such  class-rooms.   The  saddle 
is  drawn  too  tight,  loaded  too  heavily.   The  animals  can 
only  heave  or  steam« 

There  is  more  hope,  however,  from  those  teachers  who 
recognize,  in  whatever  way,  the  possibility  of  other  than 
single  or  pedantic  aims.   The  issue  will  turn  on  the  in- 
crease of  their  ability  to  disentangle  the  net  of  aims  amd 
desirable  objects,  and  their  willingness  to  sacrifice  many 
talks  and  exercises  that  are  dear  to  their  hearts.  Herbert 
Spenoer'  summary  of  the  matter  in  regard  to  education  gener- 
ally, fits  with  particular  niceness  these  more  hopeful  average 
English  classes  now. 


13 


"The  question  which  we  oontend  is  of  such  transcend- 
ent moment  is  not  whether  auoh  or  such  knowledge  is  of 
worth,  but  what  ie  its  relative  worth?   When  they  have 
named  certain  ad^rantages  which  a  given  course  of  study 
has  secured  them,  persons  are  apt  to  assume  that  they 
have  justified  themselves,  quite  forgetting  that  the  ade- 
quateness  of  the  advantage  is  the  point  to  be  judged. 
There  is,  perhaps,  not  a  subject  to  which  men  devote 
attention  that  has  not  some  value,   A  year  diligently 
apent  in  getting  up  heraldry  would  very  possibly  give  a 
little  insight  into  ancient  manners  and  morals  and  into 
the  origin  of  names.   Anyone  who  should  learn  the  dis- 
tances between  all  the  towns  in  England  might ,  in  the 
course  of  his  life,  find  one  or  two  of  the  thousand  facts 
he  had  acquired  of  some  slight  service  when  arranging  a 
journey.   Gathering  together  all  the  small  gossip  of  a 
county,  profitless  occupation  as  it  would  be,  might  yet 
occasionally  help  to  establish  some  useful  fact  —  say  a 
good  example  of  hereditary  transmission.   But  in  these 
oases  everyone  would  admit  that  there  was  no  proportion 
between  the  required  labor  and  the  probable  benefit.  No 
one  would  tolerate  the  proposal  to  devote  some  years  of 
a  boy's  time  to  getting  such  Infornation,  at  the  cost 


14 


of  muoh  more  valuable  information  whioh  he  might  else 
have  got.    And  if  here  the  test  of  relative  value  is 
appealed  to  and  held  conoluaive,  then  should  it  be  ap- 
pealed to  and  held  oonoluelve  throughout.   Had  we  time 
to  master  all  subjects,  we  need  not  be  partioular.  To 
quote  the  old  song: 

Could  a  man  be  secure 

That  his  days  would  endure 

As  of  old,  for  a  thousand  long  years, 

What  things  might  he  know I 

What  deeds  might  he  del        1 

And  all  without  hurry  or  pare.'" 

One  of  the  observations  of  the  present  survey  as  above 
stated,  >T3v8  in  regard  to  the  specific  attention  given  ethics, 
more  or  less  as  such,  in  whatever  pls,ae,  in  the  schools  viAited, 
As  evident  from  the  above  accounts,  the  English  literature 
classes  themselves  featured  little  ethical  prejudice  — 
except  in  the  case  of  the  more  noticably  superior  classes. 
The  general  attitude,  taken  ran  usually  in  a  Calvinistic  or 
in  the  Devil's  own  way.   The  classes  wherein  moralizing  was 
more  scientifically  handled  were  numbered.   The  Calvinistic 
assuaed  and  dogmatic  attitude  prevailed.   Instincts  and 
emotions  were  looked  outside,  while  moral  admonitions  reigned. 


Herbert  Spencer:  "Education,"  pp. 28-29 


15 


One  teacher  talked  for  twelve  or  fifteen  minutes  on  aspiration, 
the  joy  and  profitableness  of  "desiring  all  things  that  can 
make  life  of  value."   The  teacher  who  lectured  to  a  second 
term,  third  year  class,  for  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  in  a  trance- 
like voice,  on  the  transcendental  peace  which  came  to  Holmes, 
and  which  "come  to  all  of  us,"  "as  the  highest  good," 
illustrated  the  less  harmful  form  of  such  adnonitions.   The^ 
Devil's  devotees  in  these  matters  escaped  responsibility  and 
embararssment  by  carefully  avoiding  serious  reference  to  such 
things,  or  by  high  handedly  side-tracking  imminent  discussion 
of  such  perplexing  nature.    It  was  this  class  of  teachers 
who  stressed  the  scholarly  'history  and  mechanics,'  of  the 
literature  they  were  teaching. 

If  it  is  difficult  for  even  very  highly  trained  thinkers 
to  shake  themselves  free  from  traces  of  pedantry  or  cowardice, 
it  seems  the  Herculean  task  for  teachers  to  observe  and  learn 
that  mere  exhortation  and  precept  --  or  evasion  have  little 
forceful,  constructive  effect  on  the  young;  to  learn  that  no 
eye  of  the  blind  couid  be  of  less  value  than  the  teaching  eyes 
which  fail  to  register  the  fact  that  such  external  commands, 
prohibitions,  sparrings,  "have  little  or  nothing  to  do  with 
the  series  of  changes  continually  taking  place   in 


, .-.  ■> , 


9©;).> 


16 


the  inner  life  of  pupils,  changes  which  alone  oonetitute  its 

1 
moral  progress  or  backsliding," 

The  classes  in  which  the  more  effective  attitude  was 
taken  in  these  matters  were  also  those  in  which  the  type  of 
teaching  was  better-timed  psyohologiaally  in  other  respects, 
also. 

No  ethically  motivated  effort  was  found  elsewhere  than 
in  specific  English  rooms,  as  the  independent  effort  of 
individual  teachers.   Questions  about  correlated  work  along 
the  line  in  history,  civiee,  etc,,  found  no  data.   There 
was  no  suggestion  for  such  motix'ation  by  any  departmental 
director. 

We  come  now  to  some  classes  which  cannot  be  included 
in  any  of  the  above  categories.   They  stand  out  as  unusually 
animated,  but  without  any  of  the  high  fever  symptoms  which 
accompanied  the  usually  busy  but  somewhat  dazed  and  ineffectual 
classes  inef^rxjBd  to  abov^.  They  are  the  classes  which  bring 
up  the  averaga  for  vicarips  experience,  character  analysis, 
original  thinking  ,in  the  accompanying  survey.   In  these 
class-periods  neither  pedantry,  dogma,  nor  evasion  seemed 
the  teacher's  chief  stock  in  trade.   And  neither  noticeable 
routine  nor  brilliancy  held  the  class  in  tow.   Genuine 


1 

Margaret  llacMillan:    "Education  thru  the  Imagination," 
p.    136. 


17 


interest  and  thinking  were  part  of  these  classes,  neither 

undue  haste  nor  patched-up  time-lapses  were  apparent.  Two 

classes  can  represent  this  more  exceptional  kind  of  work. 

One  was  a  first-term  senior  class,  studying  "Hamlet,"  The 

other  was  a  second  term  sophomore  class  studying  Evelyn 

Preston  Peabody*s  "Singing  Man."   The  study  with  each  piece 

of  work  was  observed  thru  several  class  periods.   The  class 

scored 
in^Hamlet^l  on  two  successive  days  as  follows: 


Front  of  Card. 


1st  Day. 


Class:  2d  term(Eigh  Seniors) 
34  in  number. 

Piece  studied:  Last  Act  "Hamlet," 


Percent  of 
thinking  in 
class:   80 

1o   Enjoying-  100 

/o  Bored  - 

1o   Indifferent- 


Teacher  does:  Jnoourages  inductive 

discussion  by  entering 

into  It  herself  and  unobtrusively 

guiding  direction  of  thou^sht. 

Pupils  do:    Present  character  analysis,* 


S- 


Under  the  pupils  activity  the  first  day  on'Kamlet ,above, 
also,  must  be  noted  the  fact  that  the  more  significant 
data  of  action  and  event  was  selected  by  the  students  with 
no  little  discernment  and  made  to  throw  light  on  the 


,-j"  T'-'v 


^'i«q  &T9W  Sin] 


•.  — 'ViJ  ^ 


tftrrtJ 


fOl)   Bfiq;: 


IS 


Reverse  side  of  Card, 


Ist  Day 


t— 


■^ 


'^0   vioarioue  experience:  90 

'jo   time  on  incidental  at  10 

(some  excess  wandering  in 
disouBslon) 
^  time  on  interpretation:  90 


^  of  Purpose  in 

teacher's  efforts: 


90 


Projects:  Gathering 
of  reference  to 
action,  etc,  , 
Similar  or  differ- 
ent to  action  of 
characters  under 
like  or  different 
circumstances  in 
"Macbeth"  and 

V/in.  V.  l^oody'a  ♦ 
"Great  Divide." 


L 


the  character  development  of  the  men  and  women  there.  And  only 
■Aawcnotgat od  such  generalities  as  might  ^e^|^|ely  deduced 
from  the  analysis  of  the  events  and  personsy^euggested  for 
life  in  other  "oastles  and  ollmei."   The  students  evinced 
quite  astounding  ability  to  combine  both  caution  and  boldness 
in  their  thinking  .   The  inductive  steps  suggested  by 
Palmer  (cf,  p,    below)  were  most  fully  and  naturally  used. 


Note  the  possible  range  of  thinking  such  exercise  might 
suggest . 


19 


Front   of  Card 


Class:    2d   tern    (High  seniors) 


Piece  studied: 

Last  act   ••Hamlet." 


2d,  .Day 

PjiBrcent   of   thinking 
in  class:        90. 

%  enjoying;      100 

%  "bored : 

%   indifferent: 


Teacher   dues:    as    in  1st  day ^ above   card. 
Pupils  do:  ' •  "  "      , 

%  character   analysis:    95 


Reverse   of  Card. 


2d  Daj 


r 


/o  Vicarious   experience:    95 


%  time   on   incidentals:        0 

%     '•        "      interpretation:    100. 


%  Purpose   in  teacher's  efforts:    90 


L- 


q: 


The  class  in  "The  Singing  Man"  is  rated  "below. 


30 


Front  of  Card 


Class:  1st  term  (sophomores) 
Piece  studied:  Third  part  of 
"The  Singing  Man." 


Teacher  does 


Pupils  do 


J.  G  ^  ly  ay 

-,1 

thinking 

in  class :      95 

% 

enjoying:      90 

% 

"b  or  ed : 

%      indifferent; 
Directs  attexntion  to  suggested  and 
implied  pictures  of  the  man  and  his 
surroundings;  to  his  motives  and  those 
of  society, implied  in  the  selection; 
to  relative  justice  and  relation  to 
each  party  of  such  action  and  conditioh^ 
Reconstruct  imaginatively  and  sympa- 
thetically -  verhally,  the  situations 
implied  here.  Discuss  matters  called 
to  attention  by  the  teacher's  direction 
above;  offer  hotly, miscellaneous 
suggestions  for  different  conditions. 


Reverse  of  Card. 


Ist  Day. 


/i  Vicarious    ' 

experience:    60 


Projects:   Collection  of 
cartoons   or   other 
pictures   to   illustrate 
conditions   as    those 
defined    in  the  poem, 
for   exhibit. 


'"  time   on   incidentals:        0 
"      "      interpretation:    75 

%  Purpose   in  teacher's  efforts:    90. 


21 


Front  of  Card 


2d  Day. 


Class:  Ist  term  (Sophomores)   %   of  thinking 


Piece  studied:  Fourth  part  of 
"The  Singing  Man." 


in  class:  90 
%  enjoying:  80 
^  bored:  15 
%   indifferent: 


Teacher  does: 


Pupils  do: 


Directs   attention   to    -   contrasts 
of  value  suggested   in  the   selection, 
to  wealth  of  picture  detail;    to 
other   such  concrete   situations  re- 
called by  students. 


Respond  to  above  direction.      Show  zeal 
and  some   insight   in   the  comparative 
discussion  raised  by  teacher's   last 
suggestion. 


Reverse  of  Card. 


%  Vicarious  experience:   80 


2d  Day. 


Projects:    as  above, 
1st  day. 


%  of  time   on   incidentals:        0 


of,      H  H  M 


interpretation:    100. 


%  Purpose  of  teacher's   efforts:    80. 


22 


To  render  above  scoring  more  intelligible  Parts  III 
and  IV  of  "The  Singing  Man"  are  included  here, 

III 


II 


Seek  him  yet.  Search  for  himl 
You  shall  find  him,  spent  and  grim; 
In  the  prisons,  where  we  pen 
These  unsightly  shards  of  men. 
Sheltered  fast; 
Housed  at  length; 
Clothed  and  fed,  no  matter  howl- 
Where  the  householders,  aghast. 
Measure  in  his  broken  strength 
Nought  but  power  for  evil,  now, 
Beast-of-burden  drudgeries 
Could  not  earn  him  what  was  his: 
He  who  heard  the  world  applaud 
Glories  seized  by  force  and  fraud. 
He  must  break,-  he  must  take I - 
Both  for  hate  and  hunger's  sake. 
He  must  seize  by  fraud  and  force; 
He  must  strike, without  remorsel 
Seize  he  might;  but  never  keep. 
Strike,  his  oncel  -  Behold  him  here. 
(Human  life  we  buy  so  cheap, 
Who  should  know  we  held  it  dear?) 


No  denial,  -  no  defence 

From  a  brain  bereft  of  sense, 

Any  more  than  penitence. 

But  the  heart-beats  now,  that  plod 

Goaded  -  goaded  -  diirab  with  wrong, 

Ask  not  even  a  ghost  of  God 

How  long? 

When  the  Sea  gives  up  its  dead. 
Prison  caverns,  yield  instead 
This,  rejeo ted  and  despised; 
This,  the  S'oiled  and  Sacrificed  1 


■SJh:. 


without  form  or  oomeliness; 
Shamed  for  ue  that  did  tranagresa; 
Brulaed,  for  our  Inlquitieaj 
With  the  strlpee  that  are  all  hie  I 
l^aoe  that  wreokage.  you  who  can« 
It  was  once  the  Singing^  Man. 


Part  IV. 

Must  it  be?  Must  we  then 
Render  back  to  God  again 
This  Hla  broken  work,  this  thing. 
For  his  man  that  once  did  sing? 
Will  not  all  our  wonders  do? 
Gifts  we  stored  the  ages  through, 
(Trusting  that  He  had  forgot) 
Gifts  the  Lord  required  not? 

Would  the  all-but-huraan  serve'. 
Monsters  made  of  stone  and  nerve; 
Towers  to  threaten  and  defy 
Curse  or  blessing  of  the  sky; 
Shafts  that  blot  the  stars  with  smoke; 
Lightnings  harnessed  under  yoke; 
Sea-things,  air-things,  wrought  with  steel. 
That  may  smite,  and  fly,  and  feel I 
Oceans  calling  each  to  each; 
Hostile  hearts  with  kindred  speech. 
Every  work  that  Titans  can; 
Every  marvel:  save  a  man. 
Who  might  rule  without  a  sword. — 
Is  a  man  more  precious.  Lord? 


Can  it  be?-  Must  we  then 
Render  back  to  Thee  again 
Million,  million  wasted  men? 
Men,  of  flickering  human  breath. 
Only  made  for  life  and  death? 


:^i*  :; 


24 


Ah,  but  see  the  sovereign  Few, 
Highly  favored, that  rercaini 
These,  the  glorious  residue. 
Of  the  cherished  race  of  Cain, 
These,  the  magnates  of  the  age. 
High  above  the  human vege. 
Who  have  numbered  and  posseait 
All  the  portion  of  the  rest  I 

What  are  all  dispairs  and  shames. 
What  the  mean,  forgotten  names 
Of  the  thousand  more  or  less, 
For  one  surfeit  of  success? 

For  those  dullest  lives  we  spent. 
Take  these  lew  magnificent  I 
For  the  host  of  blotted  ones. 
Take  these  glittering  central  suns. 
Few;  -  but  how  their  lustre  thrives 
On  the  million  broken  lives  1 
Splendid,  over  dark  and  doubt, 
For  a  million  souls  gone  outl 
These,  the  holders  of  our  hoard,-    „ 
^ilt  thou  not  accept  them.  Lord? 

In  the  case  of  both  classes  the  emphasis  was  markedly- 
thoughtful  and  social.   There  was  distinct  participation  in 
experience,  and  the  discovery  of  its  meaning,  on  part  of  both 
teachers  and  students.   There  was  novelty  but  not  caprice 
in  the  genuine  reactions  of  the  pupils  to  the  progressive 
stimuli  of  the  emotional  content  of  the  literature.   The 
teachers  madf  no  extraneous  efforts  to  be  sure  the  necessary 
preliminaries  to  interpretation  had  been  done.   Understanding 


ftic: 


3  a:  iix 


ne-   '-  Tx 


of  text  and  conteat  were  irtcident  to  the  lively  interpretation, 

A  natural  question  as  to  the  order  of  Hamlet 'e  thought  in 

one  of  hia  apeeohes,  etc.  , kept  classes  reminded  of  the 

necessity  for  careful  preparation  —  did  the  temper  of  the 

discussion  not  so  do,  Quizaloal  questioning  did  not  seem 

necessary  in  any  of  these  classes.   The  high  and  sustained 

level  of  interest  of  all  of  these  students  supplied  zeal  for 

understsinding  and  contributing  to  the  class  discussion  as 

and 
fully  as  possible.   The  desire  to  talk/\to  think  out  possible 

meanings  in  the  motives  and  actions  of  the  characters  of 
the  literature  was  sufficiently  lively  to  render  the  teachers 
but  occasionally  iirident  in  any  other  role  than  as  fellow- 
student.   Self-direction  was  prominent.  Vicarious  experience, 
analysis  of  character  and  conduct  ,and  individual  .resourceful  , 
thinking  were  predominant. 

It  can  be  hardly  necessary  to  note  that  in  such  classes 
the  "moral!'  instruction  was  markedly  more  scientific  thaji  in 
the  classes  where  Calvin's  bones  rattled  , or  where  predominately 

human  issues  were  pigeon-holed  or  averted, 

♦  *  * 


-)  ,  -,    a 


v*i. 


\i.-ij^ 


Tavsl 


eKOo   s«)  X-^^*^'^ 


36 


III. 


The  shortcomings  -  pedantry,  pseudo- sentirrent , 
confusion  of  aeliraB  -  indicated  above  may  "be  traced  to  two  mai» 
apprehensions.    Teachers  who  display  such  shortcomings  think 
that  neither  spontaneous  interest  nor  present  experience  can 
he  intrinsically  valuable  and  continuous  with  later  development. 
The  child,  not  cousin  twice  removed,  hut  father  to  the  man, is 
not  a  source  of  wonder  to  such  -  is  outside  their  apprehensions. 
The  genuine  interest  in  the  discussions  of  the  better  classes 
referred  to  above  unmistalcably  led  the  students  to  eonstructive 
and  enlarging  intelligence.    Only  in  these  interested  classes, 
and  where  the  fundamental  social  issues  were  part  of  the   cus- 
tomary discussion  -  whatever  century's  clothes  the  folks  and 
manners  came  in  -  was  there  sustained  spontaneity  that  rendered 
reaction  to  the  literature  genuine  and  vital. 

Referring  to  an  hour  just  spent" in  English"  with 
"The  Prisoner  of  Chillon,"  a  young  sophomore  flung  out  to  his 
pal  as  he  rushed  to  the  history  room:  "Why  don't  that  waiting 

stunt  go  nowadays*?" 

back 
"Does  sometimes,"  came^from  the  other  fellow.   "Real 

stuff  in  the  old  fellowl" 

"Social  notivation  of  English  literature  teaching" 


27 


refers  otviously  to  the  teacher's  use  of  his  pupils  and  the 

materials  of  literature  so  as  to  educe  some  kind  of  specific 

social  consciousness  in  the  hoys  and  girls.  Desires,  motives, 

purposes,  and  so  stimulated  and  fed  with  such  teaching,  as  to 

interest  and  aid  in  the  intelligent  development  of  those 

powers  in  the  growing  man  which  are  distinctly  social.  By 

"distinctly  social"  is  meant,  of  course,  those  aptitudes 

and  powers  that  apply  to  the  more  unclassified  and  personal 

1 
intercourse  of  human  beings.   Robbins  lists  some  of  those 

desires,  attitudes,  as-cooperation,  tolerance,  freedom, 
responsibility,  sense  of  duty,  initiative,  the  general 
virtue  of  justice,  and,  may  we  not  add  not  inadvertantly, 
temperance. 

Motivation  which  is  distinctly  social,  aims,  in  the 
teaching  of  literature,  so  to  kindle  and  tend  the  fuses  around 
the  mind  of  the  student  that  his  powers  of  inspection,  retro- 
spection, introspection,  grov/  to  make  as  continuous  citcle 
of  heat  and  light  for  himself  and  his  fellows  as  possible. 
Teaching  so  directed  would  help  the  boy.iand  girl  to  see  and  know 
himself  among  his  fellows.   The  education  derived  from  English 
classes  of  this  nature  would  lead  to"Sff iciency  in  controlling 


1 
Charles  Robbins : "School  as  a  Social  Institution, "p. 
40  ff. 


38 


1 
affairs  in  social  intercourod'   -  directed  by  "good  will,  the 

■2 
desire  and  endeavor  to  work  for  the  common  good".   We  would 

say  with  Charles  Rohhins  that  "Sociability  means,  or  should 
mean,  more  than  just  fondness  of  companionship;  that  it  should 
imply  fitness  for  such  companionship  ....    It  is  the  found- 
ation but  not,  initially,  the  whole  structure, of  human  cooper- 
ation ....    and  in  spite  of  all  tendencies  toward  isolation 
and  group  segregation,  the  social  creature  must  develop  that 

breadth  of  vision  and  depth  of  syuipathy  which  are  essential 

3 
in  humanizing  life  -  and  education." 

The  materials  in  the  course  of  English  literature 

will  be  30  chosen  and  administered  that  the  natural  movement 

to>»ard  sociability  will  be  :lrrEoaden6dv  .  deepened  and  rendered 

more  intelligent.    This  points  to  "an  active,  conscious,  and 

4 
systematic  use  of  all  the  driving  internal  motions  of  youth." 

in  arousing  ir;tere3t  and  furnishing  contact  with  people." 

"Subject  matter"  will  therefore  be  selected  and  graded  accord- 


1 

ParleET:      "Methods   of  Teaching   in  High  Schools,    p.    17. 
2 

Ibid. 
3 

"The  School  as  a  Social  Institution",  pp.  39,40. 
4 

Galloway:  "Use  of  Motives,"  p.  60. 


♦c'r;;ooi9C"ni  C/:i 


*  '''  ;  T^.  • 


23 


ing  to  its  likely  appeal  to  the  incipient  social  emotions  of 
the  boys  and  girls.   More  arbitrary  and  logical  curriculum 
dictates  must  go. 

The  chief  omissions  noted  in  the  survey  of  the 

schools 
representatives  above  might  be  recapitulated  under  lack  of  ap- 

peal  to  l)  natural  interests,  2)  social  emotions,  3)ethiL;al 

reflection.    The  prevalence  of  pedantry,  dilute  and  reflected 

emotion,  and  the  turmoil  of  confused  aims, was  the  result.   The 

fundamental  conception  underlying^  teaching -in  such  pooiti-an-  is 

the  popular  one  that  all  "education"  is  of  the  future^only. 

In  order  to  live  in  the  future  a  pupil  is  held  to  be  dead  to 

the  present,  or  at  best,  his  more  natural  proclivities  are  held 

in  very  "safe"  escoo  until  somehow,  magic  makes  of  him  a  sane 

1 
adult  one  day;  when  he  may  appear  really,  on  the  scene. 

2 
The"3nare  of  preparation"  is  spread  laboriously 

thru  the  length  and  breadth  of  most  of  our  classes.  "  To  have 

laid  it  down  that  the  educative  process  is  a  continuous  process 


1 

Tha^  teachers  have  been  so  successful  in  finding  play 
and  work  devices  to  keep  the  usual  semblance  of  order  and  in- 
terest in  class  tooms  is  noteworthy  oiieflLy  because  of  the  «xtr«R»e 
resourcefulness  of  such  teachers  which  this  actively  displays. 
It  is  a  question,  whether  to  credit  this  success  to  the  acumen 
of  the  teachers  or  to  the  traditional  school  submissiveness  of 
boys  .and  girls.    The  tragedy  is  not  lessened  either  way. 

2 
Addguns,  Jane:   "Twenty  Years  at  Hull  House,  p.  88. 


30 


of  growth. having  as  its  aim  at  every  stage,  an  added  capacity 
of  growth,  is  to  o|>sr  an  idea  in  strong  contrast  to  the  preva- 
lent ideas  which  influence  practice.    The  current  idea  is  that 

or 
education  is  entirely  a  process  of  preparation  getting  ready. 

What  is  to  be  prepared  for,  is,  of  course,  the  responsibilities 

and  privileges  of  adult  life.    The  youngsters  are  not  regarded 

as  social  members  in  any  kind  of  a  full  and  regular  standing. 

They  are  candidates  on  a  waiting  list.    The  idea  is  one  of 

the  menacing  forms  of  the  notion  of  the  negative  and  priyalive 

ul 

character  of  growth. 

The  mangling  consequences  that  follow  from  putting 
education  on  this  basis  are  manifest.    It  involves  loss  of 
impetus.   Motive  pov;er  is  not  utilized.    Young  people  will 
live  in  the  present  wl^ther  or  not  the  elders  try  to  evade  the 
fact.   And  the  future  just  as  future  laclcs  urgency  and  body. 
There  is  in  this  kind  of  teaching,  premium  put  on  shillyshall- 
ing  and  procrastination.    The  future  prepared  for  is  a  long 
way  off;  plenty  of  tlae  will  intervene  before  it  becomes  the 
present.   Why  be  in  a  hurry  about  getting  ready  for  if? 
Temptation  to  postpone  is  much  increased  because  the  present 


1 
Dei«e.y  ,  John:  "Democracy  and  Education"  p.  63. 


av 


31 


offers  so  many  wonderful  opportunities  and  proffers  such  in- 
vitations to  adventure.   Natural  attention and  energy  go  to 

them;  and  education  accrues  naturally  aa  an  outcome;  but  it  is 

of 
a  lesser  education  than -tfea*  if  the  full  stress.^  effort  had 

1 
been  put  upon  making  conditions  as  educative  as  possible. 

It  is  the  principle  of  education  which  is  predomin- 
ately responsible  for  the  use  of  the  adventitious  motives  evi- 
dent in  most  of  the  English  classes  visited  for  this  survey. 
The  stimulous  residing  in  the  situation  actually  confronted  is 
required.    "ISducation"  in  this  manner  is  not  therefore  growth, 
progressively  realizing  present  possibilities.   Because  the 
need  of  preparation  for  a  continually  developing  life  is  so 
great,  it  is  imperative  that  every  energy  be  lent  to  making 
the  present  experience  as  rich  and  significant  as  possible. 
As  the  present  merges  incaneilti^^  /  into  the  future,  the  future 
is  taken  care  of. 

It  is  notable  in  what  slight  extent  English  literature 
teaching  is  used  to  minister  to  the  social  needs  of  students; 
how  infeequently  teachers  of  the  "Subject"  have  had  the  social 


1 

Ibid. 
2 

To  id.,  p.  65. 


"in 


i   il 


32 

point  of  view.  The  legitiirate  part  which  the  experience 

derived  from  English  work  can  play  in  creating  a  common  8to± 

of  rich  and  immediate,  emotional  exp'";rience,  is  unquestionable. 

1 
And  developing  what  Bobbit  calls  the  "large  group  consciousness" 

ia  more  possible  for  English  than  for  any  other  high-school 
subject,  perhaps.  English  literature,  not  being  used  toward 
these  ends,  is  not  slightly  contributory  to  the  growing  isolation 
into  class  and  individual  consciousness  that  besets  society 
today.  There  is  no  place  here,  perhaps,  to  expose  the  history 
or  dilectic  of  the  increasing  insulation  and  specialization  that 
beset  us.  Present-day  formal  school  education  alone,  ho^n'ever,  in 
the  large  preponderer.ee  of  attention  that  is  being  given  voca- 
tional and  technical  studies,  supplies  ample  evidence  of  the 
reality  and  danger  of  the  direction.  And  an  increasing  movement 
for  part-time  and  trade  education,  made  particularly  necessary 
by  our  speeded-up  industrial  and  economic  life,  help  in  the  growth 
of  this  alarming  tendency  toward  individual  and  class  exolusive- 
ness.   If  not  in  the  more  evidently  humanistic  studies,  includ- 
ing English  literature,  where  may  we  expect  to  get  a  broader  and 
richer  outlook  and  experience  that  achieves  somehow  a  view  of 
life  somewhat  more  steady  and  whole? 


Bobbitt,  Franklin,  "The  Curriculum",  p.  131. 


33. 

It  seena  increasingly  pitiable  that  the  higher  type 
of  historic  sense,  dealing  with  mental  rather  than  physical 
facts,  and  which  is  so  largely  developed,  if  at  all,  during 
adoleserxCe,  is  ao  awkv/ardly  handled,  or  used  not  at  all,  in 
making  the  connection  between  past  and  present  and  predict- 
able future,  emotionally  significant  to  the  boys  and  girls  in 
our  schools.  There  is  indeed  no  hope  in  Israel  if  the  nice 
sense  for  appreciating  times,  motives,  persons,  other  than 
their  own  can  be  not  fostered  in  boys  and  girls.  And  the 
cultivation  of  no  other  aptitude  promises  so  richly  to 
supcly  a  con-noii  state  of  knowledge  and  mind  "large  group  con- 
sciousness." 

1 

John  Dewey's  story  fits  here.   "There  is  a  swimming 

school  in  a  certain  city  where  the  youth  are  taught  to 
swim  without  gding  into  the  water.  They  are  drilled  repeated- 
ly in  the  separate  movements  necessary  to  swimming.   One 
yoimg  man  so  trained,  on  being  asked  what  he  did  when  he  got 
into  the  water  laconical"  y  replied  "Sunk",  Tven  we'-e  the 
story  not  true  it  would  seem  to  be  a  fable  made  expressly  for  the 


"Moral  Principles  in  Education",  p,13. 


34, 

purpose  of  typifying  the  ethical  relatirnahip  of  our  present 

1 
Saoondary  Schools  to  Society  as  a  whole.   Our  current  prac- 
tice' in  literature  teaching  as  a  whole  still  seexaa   afraid 
or  unable  to  supply  material  in"»ubjeGt  matter"  that  elicits 
native  interest,  and  that  affords  strong  food  for  reflection 
upon  human  conduct,  V»e  persist  in  underestimating  the  native 
interests,  capacities  for  comparative  study,  and  natural 
sagacity  of  the  adolescent  boys  and  girls.  Or  we  continue 
lacking  intelligence  to  find  such  materials,   "Nature  and 
society  must  live  in  the  school  room,  and  the  forms  and 

tools  01  learning  be  subordinated  to  the  substance  of  exper- 

2 
ience."    "A  study  is  to  be  considered  as  a  means  of  bringing 

the  pu|>il  to  realize  the  social  scene  of  action.  Thus  con- 
sidered, it  gives  criterion  for  selection  of  material  and  for 
judgment  of  values.  We  have  at  present  three  independent 
values  set  up:  one  of  culture,  another  of  information  and 
another  of  discipline.   In  reality,  these  refer  only  to  three 
phases  of  social  interpretatioh.   Information  is  genuine  and 
educative  only  in  so  far  as  it  presents  definite  images  and 
conceptions  of  materials  placed  in  a  context  of  social  life. 


1 

John  Devrey:   "Moral  Principles  in  Education';  p.  31 
2 

Ibid.,  31, ff. 


35 


Discipline  is  genuinely  educative  only  as  it  represents  a 
reaction  of  information  into  the  individual's  own  powers, 
so  that  he  brings  them  under  control  for  social  ends.   Cult- 
ure, if  it  is  to  "be  genuinely  educative  and  not  an  external 
polish  or  fictitious  varnish, represents  the  vital  union  of 

information  and  discipline.    It  marks  the  socialization  of 

1 
the  individual  in  his  outlook  upon  life."  Courses  in  English 

literature  study  must  lend  themselves  to  the  development  of 

a  vital  social  spirit  "by  the  use  of  methods  that  appeal  to 

sympathy  and  cooperation  instead  of  to  absorption,  exclusive- 

2 
ness,  and  competition."   It  "becomes  an  all  important  matter 

to  know  how  we  shall  specifically  apply  our  social  standard 

of  moral  value  to  English  literature  as  subject  matter. 

Literature,  no  less  than  history,  can  be  made  to  give  a  "locus 

3 
of  imagination"  thru  which  the  pupil  can  remove  himself  from 

the  pressure  of  present,  surrounding  circumstances,  and  define 
them  somewhat.   This  setting,  historic,  or  biographic  possi- 
bility for  literature  as  subject  matter,  is  too  generally 


1 

John  Dewey:      "Moral  Principles   of  Education,"    ,    31, ff. 
2 

Ibid.,    p.    31. 
3 

lb  id.  ,    p.    38. 


Si:    »i 


-«nixc 


36. 


treated  in  just  a  way  aa  to  exclude  from  the  child* a  con- 
aoiouaness  (or  at  laaat  not  sofficiently  to  emphasize)  the 
aooial  forcea  and  principles  involved  in  the  association  of 
men.   It  is  quite  true  that  pupils  here  are  readily  interested 
in  just  story.  But  unless  the  "hero"  and  events  are  treated 
in  relation  to  the  community  events  around  them,  behind  or  be- 
fore them,  story  is  the  only  value  or  interest  likely  to  ac- 
crue. And  in  what  other  connection,  than  with  his  favorites 
in  literature,  or  history,  can  the  boy's  and  girl's  imagina- 
tion of  social  relations,  ideals,  times,  be  so  readily  and 
permanently  widened  and  deepened? 

"At  bottom  all  misconceptions  of  interest,  whether  in 
practice  or  in  theory,  come  from  ignoring  or  excluding  its 
moving  .  developing  naturej  they  bring  activity  to  a  stand- 
still, cut  up  its  progressive  growth  into  a  series  of  static 
cross-sections.  Vifhen  this  happens,  nothing  remains  but  to 
identify  interest  with  the  momentary  excitation  an  object 
arouses.   Such  a  relation  of  object  and  self  is  not  only  not 
educative,  but  is  worse  than  nothing.   It  dissipates  energy 
usually,  and  forme  a  habit  of  dependence  upon  meaningless 
excitations,  a  habit  moat  averse  to  sustained  thought  and 

endeavor. It  is  net  enough  to 

catch  attention,  it  must  be  held.    It  does  not  suffice 


37 


to  arouse  energy,  the  course  that  energy  takes,  the  re- 

1 
suits  that  it  effects  are  the  important  matters. 

Motives,  formulated  socially,  and  directed  effect- 
ively, require  more  thaxi  casual  reflection,  introspection.   And 
self -consciousness  has  to  enter  as  no  pigmy.   ITotives  will 
then  get  to  malce  their  '^posBeDsora"  more  conscious  of  them- 
selves and  of  their  portents.    Intelligent  companionship 
will  te  accompanied  Toy  some  unembarrassed  self-consciousness. 
Monroe  defines  "motive",  for  educational  purposes,  as  "that 
phase  of  a  volitional  process  which  precedes  in  consciousness 
decision  or  choice."  Knowledge  of  typical  and  atypical  situ- 
ations that  may  aid  in  the  directing  of  desire  to  decision, 
or  choice,  of  the  most  desirable  impending  destiny,  is  there- 
fore necessary  to  the  boy  or  girl.    And  such  knowledge  is 
not  got  unless  it  is  in  some  way  emotional.   Self-activity, 
actine  acceptance  or  rejection,  so  that  the  idea  of  the  good 
in  relations  becomes  really  an  item  of  self -consciousness, 


1 

John  Dewey:  "Interest  and  Effort  in  Education,"  p.  90. 
2 

Cyclopedia  of  Education. 


ffioaoaasc 


38. 

1 
laden  with  concrete  images,  is  therefore  the  sine  qua  non 

of  8uoh  development.   Activity  of  this  kind  remains  ho ''ever, 

the  terror  by  day  and  night,  of  most  teachers  ,   They  are 

initially  apprehensive  of  the  natural  man.  And  by  indulging 

auch  apprehension  it  has  grown  protean. 

The  bottom  cause  of  the  elaborate  filibustering  in  moat 
teachers'  class  procedure  is  probably  the  accentuated  notion 
that  these  youthful  -aIIIs  can  be  only  wilful.   Therefore  the 
hedging  and  hedging  until  everything  valuable  is  got  out  of 
range  of  the  firebrands. 

The  beginning  and  end  of  sociability  is  in  willingness  of 
course.  We  must  be  able  to  justify  these  original  and  terrify, 
ing  wills,  and  somehow  aim  to  direct  them.   Talk  of  social 
motivation,  lessons  in  sociability  is  stupid,  otherwise. 
Ability  to  distinguish  between  willingness  and  willfulness 
has  to  be  acquired  again  by  teachers.  We  must  be  rid  of  phan- 
tom terrors  that  jeopardize  education  of  the  will. 


1 

William  Hooking:   "Human  Nature  and  its  Remaking", 
p.  71. 


39 


"Will",  as  the  average  teacher  thinks  rCoont   it,  is 

unyielding 
more  or  leas  an  obatinate,  self -assert,  ine;  pugnaoify^bv  it.5 

nature.   But  "will  exists",  says  Professor  Hocking,  "when, 

and  in  so  far  as,  an  instinctive  impulse  has  first  to  obtain 

the  consent  of  a  ruling  policy,  before  pursuing  its  course. 

Dawning  of  such  self-possession  means  the  achievement  of  a 

more  or  less  stable^  , policy   toward  incoming  suggestions  and 

impulses.   And  to  have  some  kind  of  stable  policy  is  to  have, 

in  the  specific  sense  of  the  word,  a  will.   And  the  policy  of 

a  self  is  its  acquired  interpretation  of  ijts  own  central  and_ 

1.2 
necessar?/  interests." 

It  is  a  large  assumption  that  the  human  being  ia 

process  of  education  has  any  such  possibility  as  the  policy 

of  himself.  It  is  however,  the  whole  generic  question  in  edue- 

ation.    It  is  no  longer  up-to-date  in  educational  discussions 

to  hold  that  the  human  being  suffers  only  blanks  and  negative 


1.2 

"Human  Nature  aind  its  Remaking",  p.  11  This  account 
of  wilx  maksa  ■  for  th€  fire  of  "the  doctrine  of  interest." 
Such  account  of  will  explains;'  incidentally  v/hy  interest  v/orks. 


40 


following  experience.  For  him  "there  are  no  such"  negatives. 

There  are  acquired  cautions  and  discriminations.  Experience 

drives  the  man  "to  think."   Such  thinking  may  be  still,  like 

the  first  exeraiee  of  intelligence,  a  sub-sistting  of  means 

under  ends;  hut  it  can  take  the  direction  of  analyzing,  and 

making  hypotheses,  i.e.  of  induction.   In  the  result  it  will, 

if  it  can,  80  modify  its  plan  of  action  as  both  to  gain  good 

and  evil.  There  is  at  once  a  beginning  of  sciences,  and 

1 
of  the  economic  virtues,"   "Oughts  come,  with  this  under- 

3 
standing,  to  imply  conduct,  based  upon  habits  of  consideration." 

"Consideration"  then,  taking  thought,  must  give  the 
cue  for  progressively  intelligent  conduct. 

There  can  be  -btrt-  little  doubt  feut  that  the  case  of 
moral,  social  direction  must  center,  according  to  our  clearer 
psychological  lights,  about  interpretive  intelligence  toward 
their  milieu  on  the  part  of  individuals.  The  scientific 
cause  of  moral  empire  makes  its  way  with  much  more  avowed 


1 
"Human  Nature  and  its  Remaking,"  p.  157. 
2 

Ibid. ,  p.  91, 


0^ 


pf 


91JB  e-  Slid  ro'l 


Xol 


fis>r-r'' 


bQ-:. 


rliiw  XAff 


41 


empiriciBin  ibhan  before.   Individuals  must  come  to  think 

out  their  own  ways  and  means  of  moral  accommodation,  social 

motivation.   They  need  to  know  that  their  "whole  will" 

anj^  "whole  will"  is  more  valuable  4;h^n  partial  impulses  and 

wishes.  Direction  to  an  understanding  of  the  basia  nature 

of  the  moral  issue  must  be  grasped.   It  is  a  new  obligation, 

we  have  to  make  it  clear  that  moral  issues  arise  not  from 

"the  conflict  between  our  impulses  and  another  in  a  given  mind 

but  from  the  conflidt  betv/een  a  given  impulse  end  the  general 

will,  or  between  the  separate  and  restricted  meaning  of  an 

impulse,  and  the  wider  meaning  which,  because  of  its  human 

1 
belonging  it  ought  to  carry." 

If  teachers  could  understand  this,  and  could  get  it 
abroad  that  the  condition  that  justifies  any  decision  what- 
ever namely,  that  one  shall  only  then  decide  and  act  when  he 
has  fairly  interpreted  his  own  impulses,  a  very  considerable 
start  would  be  made  toward  intelligence  in  Bo>aial  cooperation. 


1 

Hocking:  "Human  Nature,"  p.  116. 


,  no  i.r>i_^ix 


i.j^. 


ra«xr>  frXfr-^ 


f-fr^  'ftlc.'-r*'   fcrais 


':MV 


r  r  !•  !«■ 


^J  U' 


leve 


43 

1, 
Profeeaor  Hocking's  diacuasion  of  escperience  as  experimenta- 
tion would  not  be  an  inappropriate  sermon  to  teachers.  There 
reraaina  no  fixed  type  to  which  we  are  setting  our  boys  and 
girls;  there  are  no  half-penny  moulds  -  ani  out  oon-.e  the  cup- 
cakes.  The  "good  man"  for  whom  the  hearts  of  fearful  teach- 
ers long  is  desired  as  ardently  as  ever.  But  we  must  remem- 
ber to  give  youth  a  chance  immediately,  to  start,  howsomever, 
being  good. 

Copy-plate  making  and  education  that  postpones  value 
from  the  current  hour  fall  thus,  in  disrepute.  Projects,  re- 
bellicns,  troubles  and  sins,  will  attend  such  educational  tac- 
tics, in  the  English  room,  aa  elsewhere.   It  is  sugpjested  that 
initiative,  interest  and  skill  will  however,  get  more  easily 
into  latter  lives  with  such  tactics  in  the  high  school.  We 

are  tied  in  the  proposition  that  "the  work  of  experience  only, 

2 
can  be  the  dialectic  of  the  will."   Perhaps  we  can  direct  out 

teaching  in  English  this  way. 

There  is  a  well-grounded  aprrehension  abroad  that  these 

ideas  for  self-activity,  expTrimentatlon,  etc.,  employed  in 

the  school,  will  cut  young  people  off  frott  the  value  in  the 

specific  historic  context  to  which  they  might  be  better 

orientated. 


1 

"Human  Nature",  chapter  entitled:  "The  Methods  of 
Experience," 
2 

Ibid.,  p.  163. 


43 


Knowledge  can  be  sot  in  other  than  empiric  form.    There  may 
he  all  going  and  no  direction.   Must  these  "new  ones"  repeat 

all  our  mistakes'? 

Such  misapprehension  is  too  naive.    Intrinsically 
good  things  appeal,  and  fire  stings  if  it  comes  too  close. 
Under  a  more  avowedlv  experimental  regime  he-who  is-^to  be 
educated  is  to  be  no  more  deprived  of.  than  coerced  into, 
association  with  any  good  which  has  been  conserved  than  the 
generations.    The  new  generation  is  to  be  not  only  left 
with,  but  warned  with  desire  for  choosing  good  institutional 
associations  for  himself.   There  is  involved  here,  no  derth 
of  respect  for  or  plea  f  or  axjgiienting  the  major  values  which 
may  come  from  all  the  traditional  associations  in  life. 
Religion,  art,  the  law  or  political  status, marriage,  are  all 
to  be  in  the  display,  designated  as  means  to  personal  satis- 
faction.   Only,  special  institutions  are  not  to  be  clamped 
down  over  the  wiggling  microcosm.   And  the  goodness  of  in- 
stitutions will  be  kept  qualified  by  their  regard  of  themselves 
as  in  the  making.  \We  must,  as  teachers,  be  constantly  re- 


minding ourselves  that  whatever  in  institutions  tends  at  any 


1 

Ibid.,  p.  225. 


-S.^'-^b 


b9y 


44. 
time  to  deform  human  nature  is  to  be  freely  subject  to  the 
force  of  diesatisfaction  naturally  directed  to  change  them*" 

To  let  then  the  native  wills  of  these  students  learn 
to  aocomfflodate  themselves  to  the  rich  and  related  emotional 
life  presented  thru  literature  is  our  task.  To  supply  this 
relishing  food  and  indicate  as  inoffensively  as  possible  the 
healthier  and  happier  Tvays  of  enjoying  successive  meals  -  to 
and  including  Sunday  and  holiday  feasts  perhaps,  is  the  under- 
taking.  We  cahnot  forget  that  "having  done  so  much  soccess- 
fully,  it  appears  necessary  to  refrain  as  much  as  possible  from 
doing  more  .  ,  .To  supplement  and  refine  the  stock  of  mind  irra- 
ges  thru  which  the  pupil  seeks  to  gain  knowledge  of  his  own 

X 

and  other  states"  is  our  first  and  last  explicit  duty.   We 
shall  remember  concurrently , in  whatever  connection,  "the  con- 
ceit of  opinion  in  the  adolescent  is  not  empty,  that  it  is 
based  on  readiness  to  assume  responsibility,  or  on  an  actual 

assuT.ption  of  responsibility  in  the  work  of  mental  world- 

3 
building." 

To  jeopardize  the  right  of  these  eager  and  earnest  young- 
sters to  make  their  own  discoreries  in  morals  is  worse 


1 

Margaret  Macmillant   "Education  Thru  the  Imagination" 
p.  187 
a 

Wm.  Hocking:   "Human  Nature  and  its  Remaking",  p.  24? 
World^building  if  not  of  physical  world-building.'" 


!--z-n 


45 


than  futile.    It  is  the  old  nan  Lack-nf -faith ,  who  suggests 

such  tactics.    "When  representation  is  clear  and  forcible 

enough,  judgment  is  always  spontaneous  and  original,  and 

1 
quite  often  wise,"   "David  having  murdered  Uriah,  judged 

h&aself  --  by  having  the  picture  of  his  own  action  revealed 

to  him:   'The  man  that  hath  done  all  this  shall  surely 

2 
die.'"    To  deal  carelessly  or  obstreperously  with  this 

craving  for  power  and  originality  of  purpose  is  to  wreck 

often,  not  only  the  youthful  motives,  but  is  to  cheat  and 

cheapen  society,  irreparably. 


1 

Margaret  MacMillan:  "Education  fron  the  Imagination." 
p.  187. 
2 
Ibid. 


<«  f  •I'T  c ; 


46. 


IV. 

Literature,  and  best  in  the  mother-tongue  for 

adolescents,  is  particularly  fitted,  per  se,  and  by 

the  nature  of  studies  ijov/  prevailing  in  most  high  school 

(surricula,  to  minister  to  the  need  for  social  motives. 

Selected  psychologically,  v/ith  a  vievr  to  the  "nearest  of 

Icin",  tiKiely  interests  of  the  pupils,  in  the  'wonderful 

v/ays  of  man',  it  becomes  iraraediately  "real"  to  the  boys 

and  girls.   It  is  emotional,  energetic,  moving  -  as  "they 

are.   Chosen  judiciously^ technicalities  are,  or  should  be, 

more  at  a  mininiura  here  than  in  any  other  school  "study". 

Initial  joy,  some  kinds  of  easy  participation  in  events, 

constituting  the  beginning  of  knov/ledge,  if  not  of  wisdom, 

in 
literature  a  the  mother  tongue  takes  first  place  as  an 

educational  means.    It  can  get  the  boys  and  girls  in,  and 
deeply  enough, in  media  res  emotionally,  to  produce  some- 
what immediate  a.nd  continuous  social  consciousness. 
History  and  literature  stand  associated  here  in  the  inate 
readiness  with  which  they  are  adaptable  to  the  needs  of 
socialiaatlcji.   They  furnish  more  easily  than  any  other 


47. 


school  subjects  , possible  "syiirpathetic  identification  of 
ones  ov/n  destiny,  if  only  dramatic",  v/ith  the  outcome  of 
wider,  associated , courses  of  events.   Personal  concenn 
with  the  issues  of  these  events  then  leads  to  some  kind 
of  reflection  upon  them,   A  growing  &  meaningfull  self- 
consciousness  comes  to  he  included  naturally  in  the  evolu- 
tion of  the  processes  of  thought.  And  throvigh  the  "removed 
aspects"  of  the  events  of  histoiy  or  literature  there  is 
achieved  in  consideration  of  these  studies  the  detached 
impartiality,  -  as  v/ell  as  intimate  partiality  -  implied  in 
the  participating  in  specific  events.   Literature,  because  of  the 
didactic  data  bound  up  with  it,  because  of  its  more  casual 
nature,  can,  more  readily  even  than  histoiy-study,  contribufe 
in  developing  judgmants  that  are  neither  too  hot  or  too 
cold.   There  can  be  thru  literature,  greater  ease  in  getting 
in  and  keeping  out  of  the  data.   'The  social  sympathies  that 

come  thru  a  v/idening  of  the  area  of  vision  beyond  immediate 

♦2 

and  direct  interests'  may  be  catered  to  , par  excellence  , by 

the  galaxy  of  life  embodied  in  literature. 

MacMurry  puts  it  that  accordingly,  in  literature  study. 


♦1 

John  Dewey:   "Democracy  and  Education",  p,  l72 

*2 

John  Dewey:   "Democracy  and  Education",  p,  175 

♦s 

"Method  of  the  Recitation",  p.  500, 


iO 


48 


the  pupils  are  "called  upon  to  do  more  thinking,  to  trace 
out  and  attec^pt  explanation  of  casual  relations,  to  raise 
questions  themselves  and  interpret  facts  "by  their  relations" 
as  the  increasing  data  of  literature  accwaulates, 
'Definte  comparisons  are  set  up,  and  points  of  resemlDlance 

and  difference  are  noted,  upon  which  some  classification  can 

♦1 

be  founded, '  Such  literature  may  supply  more  closely  con- 
tingent than  is  elsewhere  sp  likely  or  easy,  the  two  requi- 
sites for  reflective  thinking.  It  may  yield  richly,  ideas 
of  the  nature  of  life,  and  that  with  unusual  vividness,  and 
the  casual  intimate  nature  of  these  ideas  will  lead  more  or 
less  directly  to  the  comparative  work  of  reflective  thinking. 
Literature  may  thus  supply  moral,  social,  exercize,  in  "both 
simple  and  complex  ranges  of  human  experience. 

The  fundamental  aims  of  the  high  school  studies  accord- 
ing to  Parker,  are  training  for  "good  will,  social  efficiency, 
and  harmless  enjoyment."    The  term  social  motiv&tlon  in 
connection  with  English  literature  teaching,  aims  to  cover 
in  a  way,  all  of  these.   The  particular  point  of  emphasis 


♦l 

Ibid. 

"Methods  of  Teaching  in  High  Schools",  p.  5, 


33 


49. 


in  this  paper  is  that  the  third  aim  is  not  sufficient.   It 
is  almost  the  only  aim  stressed  \jy-   Parker  and  other  writers 
and  teachers.    It  is  no  doutt  a  high  and  proper  aim  to  be 
included,  but  is  it  not  alone  sufficient.   Both  theoi^--  and 
practice,  concurrently,  tend  to  regard  and  practise  it 
almost  exclusively.   Employed  alone  it  is  seen  to  be  in- 
herently inefiicient.    It  fails  to  satisfy  even  as  arause- 
ment,  soon.    It  tends  to  raalce  a  "literature  study"  at  best, 
pastime.   And  more  serious  occupation  with  it, attempted 
later,  or  at  long  intervals,  savors  of  dillitantisn;  or 
the  teacher  wheedles  the  class  into  "more  serious  occupation." 

Both  pastime  and  "more  serious  occupation"  become  obviously 

♦l 

thin  and  verbal  under  such  regime.    It  is  in  this  respect 

like  initial  instinctive  action.   The  saiae  is  true  of 
equally  evanescent "like "which  ia  necessarily  associated  here. 
In  either  case  more  serious  and  conflict  values  go  unnoticed. 

♦2 

Regarding  enjoym  nt  as  "contemplative  play",  we  are 

confronted  v/ith  a  grave  problem  in  stating  this  "hamaess 
enjoyment"  as  tJie  only  or  chief  aim  in  English  literature 


>1 

At  its  best  the  exclusive  aim  of  "hanaless   enjoy- 
ment"  provides  experience  which  is  for  the  moment  only:      is 
merely  passing,    is  not    in  any  v/ay  valuated. 

f2 

Thomdyke:  "Aesthetic  Emotions"  -  in  Teacher's 
College  record  1901. 


ilfiirps 


50 


classes.   Thorndyke  brings  out  in  his  essay  the  distinction 
betv/een  enjoyment  of  "real"  and  "peeudo"  emotions  in  the 
appreciation  of  literature,    'Real  emotions  are  such  feel- 
ings as  lead  us  to  appreciate  acts  appropriate  to  the  situa- 
tion if  real.   The  countryman  at  the  theatre  who  wants  to 

climb  on  the  stage  and  knock  dovm  the  vilMn  in  the  play 

♦2 

offers  an  example,*    Such  kind  of  emotional  reaction  to 

literature  is  quite  evidently  ruled  out,  or  overlooked  by 
"harmless  enjoyment"  as  sole  criterion  for  appreciation. 
The  experiences  to  include  such  reactions  could  be  neither 
harmless  nor  "enjoyable"  alv^ays,   "Pseudo  emotions  are  such 
feelings  as  do  not  lead  us  to  acts  appropriate  to  the  situa- 
tion  if  real,*    It  is  the  nature  of  these  emotions  to 
lack  real  pain  or  effort.   It  is  these  emotions  which  supply 
"innocent  pleasure".  And  it  is  these  which  Parker  and  most 
practitioners  have  in  mind  v/hen  they  indicate  "emotion", 
or  "harmless  enjoyment"  as  the  end  of  literature  "study", 

"Just  as  the  child  finds  the  acts  and  ideas  that  excite 

♦4 

without  frightening,    or  stimulate  without   effort",    so  v/riters 


*1 

Ibid, 

♦2 

Thorndyke:   ibid.  Ibid, 

+4 

Parker; -ffiethods  of  Teaching  in  High  Schools,  p,249 


51 


and  "teachers"  find  means  of  rjresentation  v/liich  "filter 
off  the  joy  of  conflict  from  its  tremors,  the  sweet  of 

sympathy  from  the  bitter, .. .the  zest  of  interest  from  its 

♦1  '  •   •■  ■  ■' 

strain  and  effort." 

Those  who  advocate  exercize  of  the  pseudo  -  emotions 
as  the  chief  end  in  literature  study,  say  we  may  play  on, 
play  on  thus,  happily,  and  so, prosperously,  within  certain 
limits.   The  wiser  of  these  remind  us  'that  we  are  not 
saving  our  souls  or  remodeling  our  minds  by  the  game.' 
The  present  paper, v/hile  discouraging  in  no  way  the  advisa- 
bility of  such  aim  as  one  desirable  for  literature  teaching, 
claims  that  the  real  emotions  are  quite  as  properly,  and 
perhaps  more  pertinently  for  society,  the  goals  of  the 
English  teacher's  endeavor.   The  needs  of  societj'  crj-  for 

such  endeavor,  and  honest  psychological  teaching  of  the 

♦3 

better  sort  goes  naturally  toward  it.    The  part  which 

exclusively  "art  for  art's  sake"  literature-teaching  has  had 

in  the  breeding  of  the  noxioiis  fanciful  attitudes  toward 

♦  4 
life,  the  "feeble  idealisms"  that  infest  and  overlay  our 


♦1 

Ibid. 

*2 

Ibid.,  p.  50. 

^     See  discussion  of  the  better  type  of  classes  in 
Survey,  Part  I,  above. 

*   Jane  Addams:  "Devil-baliy  at  Hulx  House;   Atlantic 
monthly,  Oct,  1916, 


r  rrtr 


-q 


.j5 


52. 


social  outlook  today,  has  not  been  reckoned.   The 
suggestion  may  be  ventured  that  it  is  considerable.   In 
kind,  there  is,  of  course,  nothing  more  deadly. 

♦1  i-S 

Training  in  "good  will"  and  "social  efficiency" 
claimed  here  to  be  at  least  equally  with  sheer  enjoyment, 
proper     aims  of  literature  teaching,  can  be  got  only 
thru  some  kind  of  real,  thougli  vicarious,  experience.   The 
ability  of  literature  to  supply  this  experience  has  been 
discussed  above.   But  also  the  kind  of  vicarious  experience 
which  does  not  bring  in  its  train  some  sort  of  reflective 
thinking  has  been  fairly  decapitated,  as  nigh  valueless  - 
except  to  pass  the  time.  The  coupling  of  vicarious  exper- 
ience and  reflection,  motive-study  and  problem-solving, 
in  cahoots,  in  the  English  course,  is  necessary  and  rare. 
Any  of  these  motives  taken  alone  limps,  but  in  company 
each  takes  increased  life.    Intelligent  sjnapathi'-  ajid  ini- 
tktive  can  be  developed  by  literature  in  the  boy  and  girl 
only  ly  such  coupling  of  activity  in  its  teaching  and  study. 
And  without  sj'-iiipathy  and  initiative  there  is  grown  neither 
"good  will"  nor  "social  efficiency".   The  "handy"  and  easy 


*1  and  2 


Ibid.  Parker,  above. 


53. 

ability  of  English  literature  study  to  develop  inductive 
thinking  "as  if  by  chance"  is  not  to  be  denied.   The  wealth, 
variety,  and  more  iuimediate  interest  of  "juet  English"  as 
one  class  of  sophomore  boys,  chuckling, called  it, is  apparent. 
The  boys  were  getting  substantial  ind^jctive  training  "un- 
beknownst" in  a  well  socialized  and  enjoyable  English  olass- 
period. 

The  study  of  the  nature  of  problem-solving  shows  that 
it  involves  the  evaluation  of  many  suggestions.   There  muat 
be  the  store  of  fertile  suggestions  and  the  trial  and 
error  practice  in  evaluating  them.   The  richness  and  varie"^ 
of  the  content  of  literature  could  hardly  be  surpassed 

for  this  rurpose.  Summary  of  suggestions  for  guiding  re- 

+1 
fleet ive  thinking  are'  given  by  Parker. 

"To  stimulate  and  assist  pupils  in  carrying  on 
reflective  thinking  the  teacher  should 

lo  Get  them  to  define  the  problem  at  issue  and 
keep  it  clearly  in  mind, 

II.  Get  them  to  recall  as  many  related  ideas  as 
possible  by  encouraging  tham. 

1,  To  analize  the  situation  and 

2.  To  formul?vte  definite  hypotheses  and  to 
recall  general  rules  or  principles  that  may  apply. 


1 

"Methods  of  Teaching  in  High  Schools",  p,  199. 


54 


III.   Get  them  to  evaluate  carefully  each 
suggestion  lay   encouraging  thera, 

1,  To  maintain  an  attitude  of  unbiased, 
suspended  judgment  or  conclusion, 

2,  To  criticize  each  suggestion, 

3«   To  be  systematic  in  selecting  and 
rejecting  suggestions,  and 
4,   To  verify  concxusions, 
IV.  Get  them  to  organize  their  material  so  as 
to  aid  tn  the  process  of  thinking  by  encouraging  them, 

1.  To  "taice  stock"  from  time  to  time, 

2.  To  use  methods  of  tabulation  and  graphic 
expression,  and 

3.  To  express  concisely  the  tentative  con- 
clusions reached  from  time  to  tijne  during  the 

*1 
inquiry, " 

The  interpretation  of  literature  can  at  its  best  do 

this  well;   at  its  v/orst,  try  soraehow  to  do  it. 

It  is,  of  course,  preposterous  to  attempt  such 

inductive  methods,  and  try  simultaneously  to  ••cover" 

the   mass  of  pieces  of  literature  suggested  by  the 


Ibid. 


oone 


55 


State  Boards,  syllatco,  etc.   There  is  no  rushing  this 
more  thoughtful  kind  of  teaching  -  and  content  nust  often 
be  sacrificed  to  :uethod. 


It  has  been  inplied  in  the  discussion  above  and  in 
the  analysis  of  //ill  in  Part  III  foregoing,  that  the 
safer  and  saner  kind  of  'moral'  or  ethical  'instruction' 
was  boiind  up  in  the  continuous  and  progressive  experience 
got  thara  the  socialized  study  of  literature.   Such 
social  direction, if  not  "moral  instruction" , is  recognized 
immediately  in  its  soundest  and  broadest  aspects,  as  the 
final  end  of  all  high  school  teaching.   It  is  the  hub. 

And  the  contention  here  is  that  English  literature 
studj  can  supply  as  straight  and  soundly  connected  spoke 
to  the  hub  as  any   study.    Most  richly  and  unir.terpretively 
used  it  may  be  said  that  such  literature  study  can  be  the 
identical  wood  of  the  hub.   Appreciation  follows  nojcmally 
upon  seeing;   it  can  be  developed  surely  only  by  training 
to  see.   The  problem  of  moral  education  in  the  schools 


o.t 


56 


i3  one  with  the  prolaleni  of  securing  knowledge  -  the 

knowledge  connected  with   the   syateiTi  of   impulses  and 

♦1 

haToits,  ' 

"Awakening  and  strengthening  the  love  of  right 
means  the  training  pupils  to  think  of  human  life,  more 
particularly  their  ovra  life,  in  terms  of  cause  and 
effect;  more  specifically,  trainin;;^  then  to  discover 
in  the  case  of  any  act  under  consideration  xdvxt   v/ill 
be  its  direct  and  indirect  effects,  present  and  re- 
mote, upon  the  happiness  and  character  of  the  persons 
involved  in  it;   and  (2)  interesting  them  in  these 
effects  not  merely  through  an  abstract  knowledge  of 
their  existence,  but  also  through  the  development  of 
the  pov/er  to  realize  what  they  actually  mean  through 
the  instilling  of  confidence  in  the  possibility  of 
success,  and  through  the  creation  of  an  insight  into 
the  facts  vmich  arouse  a^aotions  of  admiration  and  of 
gratitude'.'   Morality  is  felt  to  be  then  'not  some- 
thing alien  from  our  will,  a  burden  imposed  from  with- 
out.  It  is  felt  to  be  the  expression  of  our  deepest 
and  most  perraanent  desires.   Right-doing  is  that 


*1 

John  Dewey:   "Democracy  and  Education,  p.  413 


57 


which  appeals  to  the  most  deeply  rooted  adrairations, 
which  realizes  arabition  to   be  strong  of  will  and 
to  think  well  of  one's  self,  which  satisfies  the 

lovefof  fair  play,  and  the  craving  to  be  loyal  and 

♦1 

unselfish. ♦ 

'Knov/led^e  of  d^'-namite  is  as  essential  to  the  chemist 

as  to  the  safe-cracker:   it  is  by  each  knit  into  connection 

with  different  aims  and  habits  -  and  thus  carries  a  different 

♦2 
social  import,'    There  can  be  no  doubting  the  dynamite- 

knov/ledge  and  direction  for  its  aim,  possible  to  be  got 
thru  interpretation  of  the  motives  in  "King  Lear"  or  the 
social  justice  in  "A  Tale  of  Two  Cities",   Realistic 
interpretation  here  will  be  effective  moral,  social, tinder. 

To  deny  that  the  mass  of  inchoate  desires  and  aspira- 
tions of  the  adolescent  can  be  raised  to  a  clearer  conscious- 
ness of  their  end,  can  be  strengthened  and  steadied, and 
helped  to  obtain  full  control  of  the  will » thru  the  inspira- 
tion and  discipline  of  interpretation"  of  literature* is  never 

to  have  is 

to  have  been » or/taught  such  a  one  -  or/to  have  forgotten. 

Thru  such  stady,  means  can  certainly  be  discovered  by  v/hich 


Sharp:   "Education  for  character",  p.  187 

Sharp:   "Education  for  Character",  p,185,   2  Ibid, 


oo 


the  crowding  desires  can  lae  more  completely  realized. 
And  there  can  Toe  revealed  to  the  pupil  the  fact  that 
it  is  "precisely  the  demands  of  the  moral  law"  that  are 

calculated  to  satisfy  the  most  permanent  and  fundamental 

*1 

elements  of  his  nature"    In  addition  -  getting  all  this 

thru  example,  association,  as  it  is  got  thru  literaturei 
is  irristalDle.   Such  work  will  be  distrusted  or  mistrusted 
only  by  those  confirmed  some  v/ay  in  Galvini3:ri  or  "art  for 
art's  sa2<e". 

It  is  quite  in  ICGcping  v/ith  the  richness  of  the 
material  of  English  literature  and  v/ith  the  complexity  of 
demands  for  English  work  to  suggest  the  rearrangement  of 
courses  4n  such  way  as  to  leave  certain  class-periods  the 
time  necessary  for  interpretive,  social  motivations 
Acquiring  ai:lll  in  expression,  sn.ie  cursory, sheerly  pleasur- 
able enjoyment,  some  learning  to  interpret  language-syubols, 
takes  part  of  at  least  some  Snglish  periods.   The  disasters 
accompanying  too  much  attempt  in  miscellanegus  directions 
was  instanced  in  the  survey  of  Part  I.    Because  such  social 
direction  as  is  suggested  here^,  is  of  one  piece  with  the 
"teaching  of  literature"  really,  there  is  defensible  arguinent 
for  segregating  and  arranging  ISnglish  classes  so  th;it  the 


*1 

Sharp:   "Sducation  for  character,  p.  189. 


of 
possiDility   of  more  painstaking  interprstation/literature 

'oe  less   likely  lost.      It   is   soinewhat  ardently   recosir.i ended 

that  great  freedora  in  choice   of  jnaterial   be  left   the 

(judicious I)    teacher,    and   that   special   classes   "be  more 

frequent.      Special  days  for  interpretation  can   of  course  "be 

arranged  ty   the   teacher  with  alniost   any   old   regime.        This 

might   aeoiii  however,    hardly   so   effective   as   constituting 

certain   classes   in   "oiographj'-   ox  the   study   of    (not   "instruction 

in")    conduct.        Such  classes  would  articulate  aoout   the 

interpretation  of   somehow  great  litsi*ature. 

It   is  urged   in   this  paper  however,    that    such   specially 

aimed  classes   i.e.    in   "biography,    "control   of   conduct",    etc., 

"be   given  not   as   disjoined,    "spasLal"   courses,    as   for  instance, 

hygiene  and  landscape  gardening  might   "be    specially  designated  - 

Taut   "be  given  as  part   of   the   "English"   work  -   he   only   specified 

days  for  considering  certain  aspects   in  iCnglish  stud^/-.        In 

this  v/aci''   there    is  rin   tendency   to    set   these  class-periods 

*1 
apart,    as  distinctive,    "moral   coux-ses" .        Prank   Chapman  Sharp 

offers   suggestions   that   a  class   devoted   exclusively   to    the 

study   of   biography   be   supplied  for  high   school  fresiiraan,    and 

a  course   in   the   study   of  "conteaporal^'■   social  progress" 


•1 

"Education  for  Charactea:'' 

Ibid. 


for  sophOKiores.        This   is  virtually   the  not   obvio-asly 
done  in  many   of   the  Taetter  high   schools   in  conn(5ction  v/ith 
the  English  course,    now.      The   detailed  work   on  these 
matters   suggested  Iqy  the   completed  special   courses   designed 
t^   Sharp     is   not   of  course    included  under  such  v/ork   m 
English.        It  miglit   lae  approximated  hoy/ever  were  more 
time   and  teachers   allotted  for  English, 


61, 


V. 

Spencer  thruat  directly: 

says  he, 

"That  which  bur  school  courses  leave  almost  en- 
tirely out  and  we  thus  find  to  be  that  which  niost 
nearly  concerns  the  huaineas  of  life.   All  our  in- 
duetriea",  and,  v/e  may  add,  most  of  our  arts,  "would 
cease,  were  it  not  for  that  information  which  men 
begin  to  acquire  as  they  best  may  after  their  education 
is  said  to  be  finished.  And  were  it  not  for  this 
information  that  has  been  from  age  to  age  accum.ulated 
and  spread  by  unofficial  means,  these  industries  (and 
arts)  would  never  have  existed.  That  increasing 
acquaintance  with  the  la^v  of  phenomena  which  has  through 
Bucceacive  ages  enabled  ua  to  subjugate  nature  to  our 
needs,  and  in  these  days  gives  the  common  laborer 
coniforts  which  a  fsj?  centuries  ago  kings  could  not 
purchase,  is  scarcely  in  any  degree  owed  to  the 
appointed  means  of  instructing  our  youth.  The  vital 
knowledge  -  that  by  which  we  have  grown  as  a  nation 
to  v;hat  we  are,  and  which  now  underlies  our  whole 
existence  -  is  a  knowledge  that  has  got  itself  taught 
in  nooks  and  corners  while  the  ordained  agencies  for 
teaching  have  been  mumbling  little  else  but  dead 
formulas," 

To  give  Spencer  more  cause  for  satisfaction  the  following 

social  motivation  of  some  English  literature  work, in 

accordance  with  the  principles  suggested  in  the  foregoing 

papers,  is  suggested. 

After  literature  having  in  some  degree  great  (i.e. 

pertinent  and  humanly  significant)  conduct  embodied  in  it. 


62 


♦1 

has  been  selected  and  placed  pferchologically,  in  the 

course  of  study, 27iethod  of  administering  it  which  sliall 
aid  most  efficaciously  in  getting  the  values  connected  up 
with  the  boys  and  girls, becomes  the  chief  concern. 

There  are  any  number  of  general  ijiethods  for  attacking 
the  job  30  as  to  mere  than  likely  get  the  socialized 
result  harped  on  ibreTiously,     .    The  old  question  and 
ansv/er,and  stark  "recitation"  methods  are  of  course  ruled 
out,   Socratic  dialoguing  is  perhaps  the  best  explicit 
method  -  but  is  markedly  hard  to  administer  from  the 
teachers  scanty  store  of  tii.ie,  and  alack-and-a-day,  of 
associated  reflective  recall.   The  near-Socratic  discussions 
that  the  better-intentioned  teachers  manage  are  perhaps 
the  next  best  way  of  driving  home  the  reflective  end  of 
the  business.  Dramatization,  however  crude,  special  reports 
by  the  class,  special  readings,  mutually  planned  and 
executed  exhibits  of  problems  arising  from  the  suggestion 


^1 


For  f ine  ,type  material,  and  some  discussion 
of  social  mot  ivaticn  in  connsction  more  especially  with 
curriculum-making^ see  the  first  half  year  sophomore 
poetxy  course .outlined  in  the  University-School  prospectus 
in  1917.   A  socially  alive  class  subjected  to  that  course, 
v/ith  associated  reading, excursions  , etc  ,  is  likely  never 
to  get  over  its  social  and  moral  tug. 


63 


in  any  piece  of  literature  under  consideration. are  all 

♦I 

good,  tend  to  oe  sufficiently  oTDjective  and  live.   And 

the  fundaiaental  appeal  to  the  senses  must  not  "be  minimized 
as  the  opening  wedge  to  appreciation  and  understanding  of 
the  literature  content. 

The  use  of  excursion,  on  foot  or  otherwise  moving 
to  different  physical  localities  and  scenes,  may  "be  made 
remarlca-Qly  valuable,  not  only  in  the  experience  and  reflect- 
ion derived  from  the  excursions  themselves,  "but  in  the 
increased  interest  and  respect  paid  authors  and  books,  v/hen 
it  is  seen  that  such  books  are  in  reality  sQmebod;i'''a  ex- 
perience got  clapped  into  pages  soLiehov/,   An  excursion 
of  first  teira  sophomore  boys  and  girls  who  went  v/ith  the 
eyes  and  ears  of  poets  -  previously  explained  and  deiiion- 
strated  as  particxilarly  acute  seeing  eyes  and  hearing  ears  - 
to  San  3'r;inci3co's  Italian  settlement  on  Telegraph  Hill  - 
supplied  not  only  new  and  rich  objective  evidences  of  life 
and  loosened  the  struggling  adolescent  Sj.inpathies  somewhat, 


*l 

The  undoctored  bath  in   the   stuff,  of  particularly 
emotionally-appealing,    short    selection   is  not   overlooked 
here.      It   is   the  more  obvious   and  likely  v/ay   to   get  kinds 
of   sheer  enjoyment   and   some  general  orientation.    Specific 
recomiendati  ^n   of   this  procedure   is  precarious  however, 
because   of   its   success   being  boiind   so   closely  v/ith  the 
personality   of   the   teacher  and  temper   .and  mood  oT  the^ 
clas's. 


"but  sot  a  nev/  belief  in,  and  respect  for,  ijoets'  "business. 
The  undidactic,  "brotherly"  discussion  following  the 
trip  attested  this,  and  this  one  of  sixteen   original 
poems  Y/ritten  about  the  trip,  proved  it  to  the  unbelieving 
teach  :^r: 

The  Toiler 

■  ■■■I  !■  ■^^**— »^i^ 

"There  stands  a  figure 
There  v/here  the  belts 
Flap  back  and  forth; 
A  sound  is  in  his  ears 
As  of  a  deep  sea  roaring; 
An^l  he  hears 
Above  the  v/elp 
Of  the  unraerciful  roar 
The  cries  of  his  brothers 
And  his  sisters 
Who  are  hungry 
Patient  he  stands, 
Bver  in  fear  - 
Lest  he  last  not  till  tonorrovr." 

Moving  picture  and  the  stage  drama  are  used  too  little  to 

of  literature 
effect  siiuilar  orlentatlcnand  associatior/'-'fi'th  life. 

Typical  good  lesson  exercises  v/ith  certainportions 
of  literature  given  here  can  most  effectively  instance  the 
more  concrete  application  of  the  principles  of  social  motivation 
to  English  literature  teaching. 

An  "examination"  of  the  following  nature  "popped"  on 
a  high  sophomore  class  after  the  reading  and  discussion  of 
of  representatively  good  American  poems  —presented  to   the 


Tl 

This  poem  was  done  by  a  boy  who  had  taken  no 
apparent  interest  in  the  more  technical  -s-ork  dons  by  the 

olass  before  this  time. 


uy 


Class  "by  authors,    one   in   the  hands   of   each  memlDer  of  the 

class,- v/ould   summarize   in  a  way   some   of   thechief  lines 

of  value   enipliasized    in   the   previous   readings   and   discusaions. 

gjcaiiiination  on  Last  Montli's  Discussions , 

I. 

State  briefly  chief  difference  "between  a  person  who 

acts  on  the  idea  that  - 

"God  knows 't  were  "better  to  he  deep 
Pillowed  in  silk  and  scented  down 

But  I've  a  rendezvous  v/ith  Death 
At  midnight  in  sorae  flaming  town 
V/hen  Spring  trips  forth  again  this  year. 

I  shall  not  fail  that  rendezvous," 

Alan  Seeger. 

and  the  one  of  us  who 

(a)  Refused  to  advertise  the  unpop;il;.r  local  election 
last  month, 

(b)  Tells  smutty  stories 

(c)  Laughs  at  a  ra.gged,  or  odd-appearing  person, 

(d)  Makes  fun  of  a  person  who  prays'. 


♦l 


Such  an   exaiaination  was  given   such  a  class 
to   the  ajnazement   and   delight   of   "both  pupils    (in   the 
interest   of  writing  it)    and  teacher   (in  the    evidences   of  inteUigSEe 
the  papers   shov/ed. 


i,"-X' 


II. 

List  the  outstanding  qualities  of  character  and 
disposition  of  each  of  the  follov;in£j  men,  and  state 
underneath  \Thich  of  them  you  thinlc  would  make  the 
"best  (a)  lover  (Id)  husliand  (c)  friend  (d)  governor. 
In  short  paragraphs  make  clerxr  the  recisons  for  your 
choice, 

III. 

What   reasons  would   he  yours  pro   and   con  for  in- 
cluding Y/alt  V/hitraan?©      "Heroes"  in  a  selection 
of  poems  for  our  "social  poetxy"    course?      State  fully. 

To   conclude   the   3rd  yearb  wor]^   in  Snglish  -    interest 
can  he  marshalled    in  regard   to   comparative  values   by   the 
discussion   of     the   raiaon  d'etre   of  good  and  poor 
"literature".        The   question   of   a  junior  girl   suggests   the 
timliness   of  this.    "^  .  "What  makes   the  h;iro    in  that 

hook     less    interesting  even   than  Godfrey?" 

The   differences    in   appeal   of   the  characters   in   the 
novel  last   read  in  class  and  novels  or  other  stories   read 


♦l 

A  true  and  actual  High  School  question,  once 
put  to  me, 

*2 

"His  Hour"  "by  J^linor  Glynn.   The  teacher  discovered 
the  girl  reading  it  in  asse.ihly-perlod  and  asked  to  "borrow  it 
and  read  it  too.   It  was  gladly  loaned.   It  is  exclusively 
prolonged  and  unas3ociated,  vivid  sex   apioeal, 
♦3 

Godfrey  Cass  in  "niliot'a  "Silaa  Marijer". 


67 


concurrently  outside  of  class,  jnight  make  a  good  starting 
point  for  discussion  of  relative  v/orths  in  character 
and  conduct.   Moi'e  or  less  thoughtful  grading  of  these 
values  might  te   inticed  loy   suggesting  the  construction  of 
imaginaiy  Tdo ok- shelves,  along  the  front  class-room  v/all, 
or  at  each  of  the  pupil's  home  ,  v/hereon      hooks  could 
he  put,  on  lov/er  or  higher  shelves  according  to  their 
merit.   The  class  'and  teacher  might  work  out  hy  induction 
a  reasonalDle  and  inc3.usive  criterion  of  value,  such  as 
the  following. 

The  ••  scale"  could  he  used  also  to  focus  thought  on 
values  in  plays,  short  stories,  movies 


The  degree  in  which  a  piece  of  writing  answers  to  the 
following  requirements  determines  its  degree  of  continuous 
value,  its  trueness  to  life  -  and  its  place  on  our  shelves: 

1,  Does  it  tend  not  to  dehase  .the  affections; 
deaden  the  conscience;  v/eaken  the  }y_i,ll? 

2,  Are  emotions  aroused  ty  it  that  "benefit  oneself 
and  ones  neighbor? 


♦l 

Basic   discussion   of  principles   of  literature 
in     V/inchester's   "Principles   of  Litei'aiy      Ci'iticisra"   used  here. 


68 


3.  Is  the  emotion  just  and  proper  i.e.  has  it  sufficient 
cause  for  it? 

4.  Is  the  emotion  vivid  and  pov/erful? 

5.  Is  the  emotion  continuous  and  steady? 

6.  Kas  the  emotion  roused  in  the  reader  ranft-e  and 
variety? 

7.  Are  concrete  olsjects  used,  thru  which  to  make 
the  emotional  Jippeal? 

8.  Is  the  imagination  of  the  reader  roused? 

9.  Is  the  material  presented  in  adequate  and  appro- 
priate form?   (This  is  of  course  to  "be  discussed  in  only 
the  simplest  and  most  o"bvious  vmys) 


The  cry  from  teachers  that  such  exercize  as  the  above 
is  too  complex  and  comprehensive  ,is  no  argument  for  not 
adapting  such  a  method  to  the  exten-c  it  can  be  adapted  and 
used  ,in  the  case  of  individual  cases  and  classes. 

The  objection  that  answers  to  some  of  the  above  questions 
are  bound  to  be  arbitai^"  and  somev/hat  genera^l  does  not  in- 
validate the  scheme  or  the  use  of  it.   Anything  so 


thought-provoking,  and  somev/hat  of  the  nature  of  a  standard^ 

must  be  arbitary  and  incomplete. 

The  exercize  in  v/orkini;  out  such  a  criterion  inductively, 

and  using  it  sutsequently  would  cater  par  excellence  to 

socialized  reflection.^  A  first  day's  lesson  with  tlie 

first  half  of  Browning's  •«%  Last  Duchees"  in  eenicr  English 

may  suggest  the  use  of  the  method  further: 

"LIY  LAST  DUCHESS 

That's  my  last  Duchess  painted  on  the  v/all, 

Looking  as  if  she  were  alive.   I  call 

That  piece  a  wonder,  nov;:   Tra  Pandolf '3  hands 

V/orked  "busily  a  day,  and  there  she  stands, 

Will't  please  you  sit  and  look  at  her?   I  said 

"Px-a  Pandolf"  by  design,  for  never  read 

Strangers  like  you  that  pictured  cotmtenance, 

The  depth  and  pas: ion  of  its  earnest  glance. 

But  to  myself  they  turned  (since  none  puts  ty 

The  curtain  I  have  dravm  for  you,  hut  I) 

And  seemed  as  they  would  ask  me,  if  they  durst, 

Hqv/  such  a  glance  ceme  there;  so,  not  the  first 

Are  you  to  turn  and  ask  thus.   Sir,  'twas  not 

Ker  hus"band's  presence  only,  called  that  spot 

Of  joy  into  the  Duchess'  cheek:  perhaps 

Fra  Pandolf  chanced  to  say  "Her  mantle  laps 

Over  Xi:y  lady's  v/riat  too  much,"  or  "Paint 

Must  never  hope  to  reproduce  the  faint 

Half-flush  that  dies  along  her  throat:"  such  stuff 

Was  coui-tesy,  she  thought,  and  cause  enough 

For  calling  up  that  spot  of  joy.   She  had 

A  heart  -  how  shall  I  say?  -  too  soon  made  glad, 

Too  easily  impressed;   she  liked  whate'er 

She  looked  on,  and  her  looks  v/ent  everj'where. 

Sir,  'twas  all  onel  ISy   favor  at  her  "breast. 

The  dropping  of  the  daylight  in  the  West, 

The  "bough  of  cherries  som-  officious  fool 

Broke  in  the  orchard  for  her,  the  v/hite  mule 

She  rode  v/ith  round  the  terrace  -  all  and  each 

Would  draw  from  her  alike  the  approving  speech, 

Or  "blush,  at  least.   She  thanked  men,  -  good'  but  thanked 

Somehow  -  I  know  not  how  -  as  if  she  ranked 

I'iy   gift  of  a  nine-hundred-years-old  mme 

With  anybody's  gift."   ..... 


rffc 


70 


Method  -  Reading  and  study  of  the  poera  in  class  - 
ITo  specific  analytic  assignedent  first  for  preparation  out- 
side of  class, 

(1)  Dreanatic  setting  and  likely  antecedent  details  of 
the  action  pictured  vividly  to  the  class  "by  teacher,  sense 
attractions  of  the  life  of  royalty  in  Venice  t-.t  that  time 
stressed.   Teacher  should  attenpt  to  make  the  sexise  approach 
veay  vivid  ty  use  of  color,  sight,  soixnd,  sraell,  v/ords, 

(2)  Reading  of  the  poem  to  the  class  ty  a  student  who 
has  "been  specially  prepared, or  "by  teacher.   (Poem  to  'ce  in 
fee  hands  of^each  student  as  a  "text" ) , 

(3)  Quick  review  of  the  place  and  position  of  the 
4  characters  in  the  stoxj'-. 

(4)  Rereading  of  the  poem  ty  teacher,  more  slowly  this 
time,  with  an  effort  to  have  understanding  of  action  and 
talking  clear,  A  fe\v  questions  during  the  reading -ftiis  time, 
can  clear  up  confusion  of  understanding  ahout  these  details, 

(5)  The  following  suggestions  can  then  reirtalize  the 
meaning, 

(a)  Yfliat  pictures  in  addition  to  the  ones  in  the 
Duke»s  studio  do  v/e  see  here?  {{%)  The  Duchess  "being 
painted  "by  Pra  Pandolf),  Hov/  does  the  Duke  appreciate 
these  pictures?  How  do  you  know? 


71 


("Her  mantle  laps 

Over  Liy  lady's  v/rist  too  much",  etc, 

"The  "bougli  of  cherries  some  officious  fool 
Broke  in  the  orchard  for  her,") 

(To)  Vi/hat  indications  of  disposition  and 

character  of  the  Duke  have  vie   so  far?   (E^ctreiae  and 

lir.iited  sensuousness,  jealousy,  sarcs^sm,  revenge, 

pride  in  the  power  of  possession,  etc.) 

(c)  Of  the  Duchess?   (Beauty,  sentiveness, 
interestedneas,  kindliness,  inate  happiness,  lack  of 
pride  in  possession,  etc.) 

(d)  What  que-lities  had  the  tv;o  in  conmion? 
(Sensitiveness  and  heauty,  etc.)   Hoy/  did  these 
qualities  differ  as  they  grev;  up  in  them?  Why  perhaps? 

(e)  Do  you  suppose  the  Duchess  regretted  her 
marriage?  Wliat  nay  have  been  sowe  of  the  less  ohvious 
causes  for  it? 

(f)  Y/hy  did  not  the  Duchess  behave  as  the  Duke 
wished?   (This  question  should  get  sufficient  "rise" 
f*ora  the  students  to  prove  the  vicariousness  of  their 
experience  here). 

(g)  Supposing  it  to  have  been  a  "love-match"  at 
first,  suggest  some  ways  v/hereby  the  Duchess  might  have 
fovind  out  more  about  the  Duke's  disposition  before  she 


married  him,  (Ooserving  his  attitude  toward  infer- 
iors, superiors,  his  ov;n  and  her  friends  -  and  es- 
pecially toward  her  admirers,  etc.) 

(h)  The  DuJse  and  Duchess  are  no  longeijalive 
today  perhaps?  Any  in  our  neighlDorhood?  Have  we  one 
in  this  room? 


Such  handling  calls  for  carefully  modulated  -  now 
fast,  now  slow,  directing,  it  ma;/  be  olDjected.   It  must  be 
handled  sensitively,   Y/ork  with  the  best  poetry,  that  really 
HfliOtlvatea     socially,  cannot  but  necessitate  ta.ct,  and 
considerable  sprightliness  in  method. 


;V  A  0  wU; 


73 


VI. 


The  sxiTvey  with  which  this  investigation  is  first  con- 
cerned testifies  to  the  inadequate  -  pedantic,  scholarly  and 
dilute  -  methods^being  used  in  most  of  the  English  literature 
teaching.    It  displays  the  inability  of  such  teaching  to 
hold  the  interest,  or  to  aid  the  thoughtful  development ^of 
the  high  school  pupils.    The  laclc  on  the  part  of  these 
students  , older  grown,  of  willingness,  intelligence  wherewith 
to  cooperate  originally  in  group  relation^jis  an  open  scandal 
in  our  present  society.   Social  motivation  —  the  appeal  thru 
fundamentally  natural  interests  of  the  boys  and  girls  to 
thoughtful,  reflective,  social  consciousness,  is  suggested 
as  a  partial  renedy  or  substitute. 

The  adolescent  is  peculiarly  ready  psychologically, for 
such  education.   The  "nodern  age"  is  uniquely  susceptible  to 
such  education.    "Among  the  extremely  few  respects  in  which 
human  nature  shows  unquestionable  growth,  we  must  include  the 
degree  and  range  of  self -consciousness.    The  gradual  develop- 
ment of  psychology  as  a  science,  and  the  persistant  advance 
of  the  subjective  or  introspective  element  in  literature  and 


Ui^lii^  .t 


74 


other   fine  arts,    are   tokens   of  this  change    ...    To  "be  human 

is    to  be   self-conscious;    and   to  be   self-conscious    is   to 

bring   onets   self,   however   slowly,    into   the   sphere   of  history 

1 
and  art,    as  an  object   to  be   judged,    altered,    and   improved." 

Literature,    especially  in  the  mother- tongue,    is  particularly 

adaptable   for   use  as  means   to   such  an  end.        And   there    is   no 

II 

Hcdllid  of  ways  in  which  the  rich  and  varied  content  of  English 

literature  may  be  so  applied. 

Emile  Boutroux  formulates  the  "persistant  problem,"  at 

the  same  time  indicating  in  general  terms  the  nature  of 

this  social  method,  that  we  must  regard  as  essential: 

"There  is  one  danger  which,  unless  I  am 
mistaken,  is  a  constant  raenace  to  school  teaching 
as  compared  with  the  instruction  the  child  re- 
ceives in  the  family  or  the  outer  v/orld:  the 
pupils  look  upon  it  as  something  abstract  and 
artificial,  bearing  no  relation  to  realities, 
and  therefore  without  any  practical  value  or 
genuine  interest  to  themselves.  ...  School 
exercises  do  not  constitute  artificial  gymnastics 
for  the  memory  or  imagination,  practised  with  a 
view  to  examinations,  but  ..  are  made  up  of  the 
best  and  purest  elements  that  men  have  yet  dis- 
covered for  the  purpose  of  raising  to  its  highest 
point  the  dignity  and  power,  beauty  and  greatness 
of  human  life;  ..  the  objects  of  teaching,  when 
set  forth  in  their  true  light,  instead  of  being 
repulsive  or  unattractive,  axe  really  of  the 
deepest  and  most  universal  interest  imaginable. 


William  Hocking:  "Human  Nature  and  its  Remaking^,"  p.  3. 


75 


De  te  ...  Fabula  narratur ;   "Thou-  thyself  art  the 
sutject- matter  of  this  discourse,"  is  what  the 
master  toth  can  and  ought  to  make  his  pupil  feel 
with  reference  to  everything  he  teaches. 

"Llore  than  this,  I  do  not  thihk  that  the 
school,  however  excellent  it  he,  should  take 
unreserved  possession  of  the  human  being,  and 
claim  to  set  up  rules  and  regulations  for  the 
entire  sphere  of  the  intellect  and  soul.   I 
"believe  in  the  reality  and  inviolability  of 
mind  and  conscience,  and,  in  these  lectures, 
I  appeal  to  this  autonomous  part  or  element 
of  the  soul,  to  prompt  and  stimulate  it  to 
true  being  and  self -development,  to  the  living 
of  its  own  life  amid  all  tha  influences  legiti- 
mately exercised  over  us  by  clever  and  experienced 
masters. 

"...  Nowadays,  the  scientific  term,  pedagogy, 
is  continually  being  used  to  replace  the  old  word, 
education.   No  great  harm  is  done  if  it  really 
is  education,  and  nothing  more,  that  is  meant  by 
the  v«rord  pedagogy.  ...We  ought  to  reject  two  opposing 
doctrines,  alike  exclusive  and  inadequate. 

"The  first  is  one  v/hich,  under  the  pretence 
that  will  and  intelligence  are  two  distinct 
faculties,  looks  on  the  education  of  the  will 
as  sufficient  unt4  itself,  and  depreciates  the 
role  of  intelligence,  knowledge,  and  reflection, 
in  the  formation  of  the  human  being. 

"...  Do  away  with  thought,  and  what  will 
be  left,  under  the  najne  of  will,  except  a  blind 
force?   And  what  can  Ibhe  education  of  such  a 
force  be,  except  a  kind  of  mechanical  training, 
unworthy  of  man?   "The  very  principle  of  ethics," 
said  Pascal,  "lies  in  the  effort  to  think  well." 

"On  the  other  hand,  however,  it  is  quite  true 
that  scientific  exactness  and  mere  amount  of 
knowledge  are  anything  but  sufficient  to  give 
an  impulse  to  the  will  and  determine  it  in  the 
direction  of  the  good.   Such  knowledge  even 


76 


is  not  all  that  ia  needed  to  make  a  man  truly 
intelligent.    To  say  that  it  is  possihle  to 
set  everything  down  in  formulae,  and  reduce 
education,  even  instruction,  to  a  mere  com- 
municatioii  and  realization  of  these  formulae, 
is  to  subject  .:  man  to  an  intellectual  com- 
pulsion no  less  oppressive  than  a  mechanical 
one.    In  the  f irst-nentioned  quotation,  Pascal 
did  not  use  the  word  "know,"  he  used  the  word 
"think." 

"..  Sven  if  the  sum  total  of  knowledge, 
strictly  so-called,  ia ,  speaking  generally, 
ineffectual  over  the  power  of  will  and  self- 
determination,  which  is  the  principle  of  human 
activity,  it  is  not  the  same  with  the  quality 
of  the  very  mind  and  intellect  which  acquires 
and  assimiilates  knowledge.    Instead  of  being 
able  to  do  without  thought  as  thus  interpreted, 
true  morality  takes  thought  for  granted. 
Morality  implies  choice,  discernment,  delicacy, 
lofty  ideas  and  character;  and  all  these  con- 
ditions presuppose  the  participation  of  the 
intellect,  as  well  as  of  the  will;  they  depend 
on  the  kind  and  degree  of  intellectual  culture. 

"Education,  in  its  true  and  complete  meaning, 
is  not  the  acquisition  of  any  particular  habit 
or  knowledge,  but  rather  the  cultivation  of  the 
human  being,  with  all  his  physical,  intellectual, 
and  moral  powers;  it  is  not  the  confiscation  of 
his  freedom  for  the  benefit  of  a  machine,  hov/- 
ever  scientific  and  powerful  this  latter  be 
regarded;  it  is  the  development  of  this  very 
freedom  itself.    The  task  of  the  educator  is 
a  strange  one:  to  act  on  mind  and  conscience  in 
such  a  way  as  to  render  them  capable  of  thinking 
and  judging,  of  themselves;  to. determine  initative, 
arouse  spontaneity,  and  fashion  human  beings  into 
freedom "  * 


■£mile  Boutroux,  "Education  and  Ethics,"  Preface, 
pp.  v-x. 


77 


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BOOKS 

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Man's  supreme  inheritance.       New  York,   191S. 
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Idealism  and  the  modern  age.  Yale  University,  1919. 
Adams,  J, 

Spirit  of  youth  in  the  city  streets.  New  York,  1914, 
Bagley,  W.  C. 

Educational  process.   New  York,  1905. 
Bamett,  P,  A. 

Teaching  and  organization.  London,  1910. 
Betts,  G.  H. 

Mind  and  its  education.   New  York,  1916. 
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Curriculum, 
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You  no  longer  count.  Trans,  by  L,  S.  Houghton. 
New  York,  1918 
Brereton,  C.  S, 

Studies  in  foreign  education.  Boston,  1913, 


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Chubb,  P. 

Teaching  of  English.  New  York  and  London,  1903. 
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Suggaetion  in  education.   University  of  Chicago,  1900. 
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Hearing  Jjrocess.  Michigan,  1914, 
Compayre'^  G, 

Intellectual  and  moral  development  of  the  child, 
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Sherman,  R. 

Letters  "to  the  author"  1818-lS. 
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For  Democracy.  Atlahtio  Monthly,  September  1918,  pp. 512-531. 
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The  coroner  on  English  literature.   Eng.  Jr.  November, 1913. 
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SBedden,  D. 

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EduG.  Rev.  57,  pp.  286-297. 
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pp.  391-407. 
Van  Metre,  S. 

Ideals  versus  realities  in  high  school.   English  N.E.A. 
Journal,  1908,  pp.  656-653. 


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Letters  "to  the  author,"  1918-19.  | 

Ziegher,  C.W.  ' 

I 
Laboratory  method  of  English  teaching.  Eng.  Jr.  1919,       ] 

pp.  143-153. 


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